


Battle Computer

by pjlover666, Skylar_Matthews



Series: Collabs with Skylar_Matthews [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: A lot of headaches for Jazz, And so will the rating, Headaches, M/M, Prowl is too smart for his own good, Tags will change as the story progresses, The battle computer is no joke, crashes, in the middle of a war, love drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/pseuds/pjlover666, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Matthews/pseuds/Skylar_Matthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle computer is one of the most powerful weapons the Autobots have at their disposal. This is how it was created. And at what cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Simulation #001

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic **pjlover** and **Skylar** wrote together and it was quite a while ago. We have so many stories written, but none posted, so it's about time we share with you the first one we created. This one is big (but then again, all of our stories are big). The rating will change as the story progresses. We hope you like it!
> 
> Sadly, the story isn't beta'd and English isn't pjlover's native language so... sorry in advance if you spot any mistakes. ^^"  
> Enjoy!

Praxus had fallen.

An entire city-state wiped from the planet. All her people erased from the world as surely if a scraplet infestation had been missed. In many cases, the scraplets would have been a kinder fate. The ones who died when the bombs were first dropped were the lucky ones. Once the Decepticons invaded the city they really had their twisted enjoyment. They didn't care who it was; combatant or not, youngling or adult, everyone was heinously tortured. Sparklings were offlined with creators watching. Many in their creator's arms before the Decepticon then attacked them in turn. It was a pure massacre.

The worst part was, no one would have even known if the Decepticons hadn't hijacked signals to broadcast their 'handiwork'. Praxus had always been an isolated city, and kept to itself even more after the war was more than just whispers in shadowy rooms and alleyways. The wall built to keep others out had been the last piece of the city to fall; left until the end to hide the hideous deed from the planet until Megatron had decided it was time for everyone to know. Praxus' own defense mechanism had been twisted into a trap to contain her own people. The barrier to protect the people and their culture had hidden their suffering and marked their tomb before it too went the way of the rest of the city.

Of all the millions that had once been the population, there were only three survivors known to the Autobots. Perhaps more would surface with time, but it was far more likely they were the last of their kind. Of that he was certain. 

'He' held the designation Prowl and was one of that minuscule number; the oldest, although still exceedingly young by conventional standards. Incredibly brilliant and capable in many fields, he had examined the political situation, weighed the odds and then joined the Autobot army and spent the previous three vorn of his two decavorn since reaching adulthood attempting to prevent the Decepticons from taking over the planet. So far it had been working, but the Autobots had just been dealt a terrible blow. 

Of the other two survivors, one was an even more recent adult frame who he had met once but seen a few times around. His paint job screamed 'notice me' yet the mech could vanish at the first sign of trouble if he wasn't overcharged. He did wear the Autobot emblem as well but never seemed to be around when anything important happened. Rumor had it, this Smokescreen was the mech to go to for all betting pools and a fair amount of contraband. A truly deplorable mech, not that Prowl himself had much room to talk. Joining the army had almost been grounds for dishonor, especially as young as he still was with such a bright future. It was only that future, and his past success rate, that kept him from being marked an utter disgrace. 

The final survivor was just a youngling, recently into his second upgrades and miraculously pulled from the rubble of the former city of Praxus. Of all three, Bluestreak had suffered the worst by far. He had only been found by lucky accident as he was buried beneath the ruins of a mostly destroyed building. His vocalizer had long since shorted out so it was only because his rescuer had opened a sink hole into what would have been his tomb that he'd been located at all.

They were it. All that could be proven to remain of a once grand culture and fragment of the species. The worst part, though, was that the attack hadn't cost any Autobot lives. Their city had been, and intended to remain, neutral. The destruction of Praxus had been nothing but cruel sport to the Decepticons. And worse yet, no one had seen it coming. Of course, the warning signs were there when one looked over things retroactively, but no one had even seen anything to try and piece it together beforehand. Even with a scattering of seemingly unrelated oddities, no one had attempted to try putting them together into a larger plan.

That was what kept Prowl up most nights. He knew there was a way to piece together even the smallest, vaguest of hints and see the wicked plot behind it all, and he knew he had to figure it out, if only because no one else would. There would not be another event like Praxus; he would see to that.

It had taken metacycles to decide on the best method and obtain a basic tactical computer to begin. The technology was freely available to the public if you could afford it, but to get one without it being immediately installed took a certain amount of casual disregard for the law. Once he had the base model to study and work from though, Prowl's plans moved far more quickly and he'd soon finished off the prototype. That left him with a new problem though. There were undoubtedly countless bugs and stray bits of coding to work out yet, which meant a trial run or ten. But how to test it? He certainly couldn't just use it on himself because who would help if something went wrong? Would he even be found in time? No, he had to include someone else in the project now, but who could he trust? From turning him in to stealing the idea, there were a myriad of ways this could go wrong once someone else knew. Could he even trust another? And if so, who should he involve?

_He’s at it again_ , Jazz thought as he watched Prowl tinker with something at the desk in their quarters.

Their room wasn’t all that big, given that both weren’t all that high up in command. It had two berths per protocol even though they both shared only one, and two desks – one for each – both placed next to the berths. Prowl was showing great potential in tactical and as such, they were extremely lucky that the room had a tiny wash-racks. It could hardly be called an indulgence because besides having a hose that sprays solvent it had nothing else.

Flopped onto his front, resting his arms and helm a pillow, Jazz observed Prowl work meticulously. When Praxus had fallen he was very worried for his lover – Prowl was devastated. Jazz tried supporting him, but knew that there was only so much that he could do. So in the end he just settled for supporting Prowl, showing him he always had a shoulder he could count on.

As such, when Prowl suddenly picked up this little side-project of him, Jazz was excited. The life had returned in Prowl’s optics and his door-wings stopped dropping when they were alone. He was still down whenever he remembered Praxus, but Jazz hoped things were finally picking up. The Praxian was never a chatty or an open mech before Praxus was leveled, but after he became even more reclusive. Before, when he used to confide in Jazz, now is was difficult for the visored mech to coax Prowl into talking about his feelings.

_‘Over 15 joors…’_ Jazz did the math in his helm. Last night after his shift he after a quick rinse in the wash racks he had gone straight to the berth, tired after a long shift. His lover on the other hand had started right away to thinker again with his project. Did the mech even recharge? Probably not. A part of Jazz worried Prowl was getting obsessed, but he understood his mate was grieving. It was only natural and he shouldn’t pressure him. So, Jazz stayed quiet….well, he tried.

“Need some help?” He called after a while from his spot on the berth.

Prowl actually startled at the question. He hadn't realized that Jazz was online again. Thankfully his prototype was still on the desk so he didn't need to fear dropping it, but that was its own problem. The device was still out and visible. Thankfully he had made enough modifications that it no longer resembled the original model, but it was just odd enough to incite many questions. Especially from such an inquisitive mech as Jazz. In fact, it was strange that he had only offered to help.

He did, indeed, trust the mech who was his mate. But there's a difference in trusting in the abstract and trusting in the concrete and what he was doing definitely skirted legal lines. Just having that device, no matter how modified it might be now, if it's original purpose could be determined then Prowl was looking at at least a couple serious violations. Both civilian and military. It was part of why he'd avoided working on the physical project when Jazz was around. Theoretics were safe enough as they wouldn't get Jazz in any sort of trouble, especially if he didn't understand any of it. Not that Prowl had asked if he did or not, but he was making the hopeful assumption.

One skill he couldn't help wondering if his mate did have, however, was mind reading. Jazz's offer couldn't have come at a better time. Or perhaps worse. Was he ready to involve someone else? Yes, the project did require such at this stage and he did trust Jazz more than anyone else, but could he take that risk of involving another mech who might share his secret project with the rest of the world?

Prowl ex-vented. There was only one way to find out and thankfully he could ease into the topic. "What do you know about those battle simulation computers on the market?"

"Enough that they aren't all that trustworthy." Jazz replied, shifting on the berth to get more comfortable on his pillow. "Heard it's a fifty-fifty shot predicting the right outcome. Not many are investing in them, it's a gamble. Why?"

"That is the civilian model," Prowl agreed with a slight nod. "The military employs a slightly better version with about 70-80% success rate. Anything better and you have to dedicate additional resources, which the military won't accept. The original goal was to have some variation installed in all troop commanders to aid their squad's survival but the cost was too high. That's why there's still a tactical division at all," he explained with a glance over to be sure Jazz was still following.

"Okay..." Jazz said slowly, gaze drifting towards the bundle of wires on Prowl's desk. "Wait, are you making one?" Suddenly he sat up, looking curious and a little unsure. "Is that what you've been working on all this time?"

Prowl shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under Jazz's attention. "I..." he tried but his vocalizer caught for a nanoklik. Deciding instead to continue from a more professional angle, he returned to before Jazz's questions in order to answer them. "One other large fault with these battle computers is how limited they are. You need to feed in all the relevant information in order to get an accurate outcome. Skip even one detail and it can drastically alter the end result. The low success rate could just as easily be attributed to the average mech's failure to provide the proper data. There is a way to overcome that issue however."

Jazz didn't give more than a klick thought that this was illegal. But so was sneaking in high grade to parties in the rec room. And Prowl's project was harmless, just like the high grade. He was more focused on something else though. Jazz grinned.  "Let me guess, you figured it out?" Let it be said that his mate was nothing but a genius sometimes.

"That wasn't the difficult part," Prowl explained. "If you input all data then there's nothing to miss. It's simply a matter of making sure all information gets into the simulator. The complicated part is in the coding. How will information's relevance be determined? The price of Energon goodies in Tarn is unlikely to affect the waves in the Rust Sea after all. A turbofox crying to the moon near the Towers won't make Seekers take flight in Vos."

"It makes sense." Jazz said as he got up from the berth and went next to Prowl, peering more closely at the mess on the desk. He never really got a good look at the project before. Prowl either worked on it when Jazz was on shift or when he was recharging. And as of late Prowl seemed to be spending more time with his project rather than Jazz in his free time. Not that the Polyhexian was jealous of a bundle of wires... maybe a little. But he wanted to help Prowl not simply finish whatever he was making, but help him get past his grief over Praxus. Try as he may, Jazz could clearly see Prowl channeling his emotions in his work.

Jazz lifted a piece of something he had no idea what it was and examined it in his hand, feeling useless for a moment. Not that it would deter him. "Why are you building a Battle Computer?"

That question actually stalled him. Prowl had been preparing for any number of questions or concerns as Jazz neared but not that one. As much as he should have anticipated it.

"It was obvious enough in hindsight," he began slowly. Jazz shouldn't require clarification on what he meant by "it." Prowl wasn't even sure he could say if asked. "There were more than enough little signs. Strange troop movement here, a meaningless attack there. Things just odd enough for bots to comment on how strange they were but not weird enough to demand further investigation. Of course it all became obvious looking back, but if someone had been able to piece together those little signs as they occurred then we could have anticipated their plans."

Feeling for his mate, Jazz placed the little piece of metal back on the desk and brushed his hand on Prowl's cheek trying to offer comfort, which Prowl leaned just a little bit into in acceptance. "No one could've predicted that..." He looked at the semi-device in Prowl's hands. "So you're making a Battle Computer that could predict something like this before it even occurred? Is that even possible?" Jazz really wanted to do something, to do something more than just offer comfort.

"It's conceivable so it should be possible." Prowl's response was adamant, even more so than his own feelings. Testing and fine-tuning the coding's ability to prioritize information still needed to be done and that would be the most complicated part. As well as the part he needed assistance with...

Once more his thoughts turned to Jazz's offer to help. Would he truly be willing? He did know what Prowl was working on now, but knowing and taking part are not the same thing and crossing that line could get them both in serious trouble. He should spare his mate that risk, but there really was no one else he trusted at all for such an important secret. Pit, how he hated moral dilemmas.

"Still, you're sure there's nothing I can do to help? Besides bring you energon?" Jazz snickered at that. "I can do that at least."

"You can and you've done amazing thus far." Prowl offered a faint smile to his mate. "Don't think I haven't noticed just because I forgot to mention it." And he had noticed. In just the past decaorn he had woken up to find a cube of energon left waiting more mornings than not, and even a couple times after a shift he'd come back to find a cube out even though Jazz had already fallen into recharge. That was half the reason too, shuffling of base personnel recently had scrambled their schedules so they almost never got time to see one another, so there were few chances he even have thanked Jazz. Thankfully new transfers were due to arrive any orn now so everything would soon be back to normal.

They were back on the subject of Jazz helping though, and now Prowl was honestly considering running the odds that Jazz had a degree of telepathy, but he was also becoming convinced. It was a risk but there was enough trust between them to at least mention what he did need. The worst that would happen is Jazz might refuse, right?

"There is, actually, something I could use an assistant for."

"Oh." Jazz perked up, eager to help. He had missed spending time with Prowl a lot.  "What is it?"

"I've finished constructing it but remember when I said the code was the complicated part?" Prowl waited on Jazz to respond with a simple nod before continuing. "Well, now I need to test it. Find out the initial performance so I can set a proper baseline for future functionality. And I need someone else around for that, just in case anything goes wrong."

Jazz frowned at that. "Wait, you want to test it on yourself? Isn't that dangerous? Like, a lot?"

"Why not?" Prowl answered immediately, almost on top of Jazz's secondary questions. "There is a potential risk, yes, that's why I want someone around in case anything does go wrong."

"I don't like the thought of you being put in risk like this." If anything, Jazz's frown deepened. "Isn't there a safer way to test this?"

"Someone has to try it," Prowl replied matter-of-fact. "The only alternative would be if you did while I monitored conditions."

Jazz huffed, not happy at all. "If I refuse you'll do it anyway." And put himself in greater risk because there was no one to call for help if something happens. Not that Jazz would be that much of a help if Prowl crashed with the device still on. "Dammit Prowler, why do you have to be stubborn like this?"

"I would greatly prefer not taking the risk of trying this alone," Prowl admitted, "but I don't have many other options." And certainly none he would specifically want to take unless it was an absolute necessity. "And I simply ask that you be present on the minor chance that anything might go wrong. As a precaution more than anything else," he offered Jazz in consolation, while also hoping that such help wouldn't be necessary.

Jazz looked away, knowing either way Prowl was going to do it. At least if he was present, he could call for help. The Praxian was smart, far smarter than most gave him credit for. Jazz knew Prowl wouldn't put himself in an unnesecery risk, not like this. Prowl wouldn't allow something to go wrong... that's what Jazz hoped. "Let me make it clear, just how unhappy I am with this." He sighed. "Fine, I'll make sure you don't slag yourself, Primus knows I'll go crazy knowing you're doing this alone."

"Noted," Prowl replied as he began preparing. There really wasn't much to be done though. He had done plenty of research and knew he would need an alternate connection method when it came time to install the device properly, but for now it had a cable that could connect into any standard port. Before doing anything more though, he added a sparkfelt, "thank you, Jazz."

He chose to connect it to the port in the side of his neck, the closest he could get to a direct processor connection for now. The initial connection was unusual, but in the way a medical scan or connecting to a datapad was unusual; non-living connections had a much different feel than when another bot was on the other end of the cable. Prowl knew though that it was unlikely to remain that way. Or maybe it would. He had never used even a civilian model battle computer before and this one might not even behave as those did. He would only know when he started it.

"Maybe you should lie down." Jazz said, a little anxious as he watched Prowl work. "I should also plug in and make sure you're okay. I may not be good with the mechanical part, but I do know how to read a code." They were both lucky Prowl had a shift in the evening, even though Jazz's was in the afternoon.

"Not a bad idea," Prowl agreed, offering his mate a smile. Both suggestions were things that he would overlook but that the other would very readily conceive of, and for that he was even more grateful said mech was his.

The Praxian moved to the secondary berth in the room. They often shared the other, except when shifts got in the way or Jazz spent too long at the occasional party, so he felt it would be optimal to create a the distinction between the two. One for work and the other for recharge. Once he was settled he held out a servo for Jazz, both to usher him nearer and to offer access to the port in his wrist.

Uncoiling the cable from a compartment in his wrist Jazz went to plug into Prowl's port. After a moment of consideration, he decided to settle on the berth next to Prowl, who shifted to accommodate him as needed. The prototype was loosely held on Prowl's stomach plating and up this close the visored mech could see all the little details in it; Prowl had put some delicate work into it.  Still, Jazz longed to be near the other and if he could get some extra cuddles from this insane project of Prowl's, he would certainly oblige himself. "If this goes wrong, I'm shooting the thing. Got it?"

"Preferably after I'm no longer attached," Prowl consented with the hint of laughter in his tone. He took a moment to clear his processor of any expectations and hugged Jazz a little closer. It was a momentary distraction and he knew it, but now that it was time he was hesitant. There was no knowing what would happen. It was only the thought that not knowing was always worse that kept him from deciding to quit. He had to do this. He had to know. Even if he had to suffer for it. A little pain now could prevent so much worse in the future.

With that thought in mind, Prowl sent the activation code.

Jazz really didn't know what to expect. He observed as a program was pulled to Prowl's HUD and a progress bar appeared. It barely started to full. It was going to be a slow process. Still, he focused on observing as bits and pieces of code were pulled aside and examined by the program. Was this how a simulation worked? "I always figured a simulation would be... y'know, cooler? Not just code." He murmured as to not distract Prowl.

"Well this is just the initialization process," Prowl commented, sounding more sure than he actually felt. It was a logical enough reason for something that might actually be a standard procedure. Many other upgrades required similar, especially the more advanced they were or closer to integrated they got. While the coding unpacked itself from the simulator core program he found he still had more than enough processing power to handle a conversation and had decided that keeping Jazz informed might help comfort him that trying this wasn't a potentially disastrous mistake. And maybe just a tiny part of him was looking to hear that comfort too. "Once the program finishes setting up then we'll see how this works."

"This is actually pretty awesome." Jazz said, watching the program unfold, amazed. "Can you imagine all the good this project will bring if you finish it? Have you thought about sharing it with the research department? I'm sure they'll love the idea or at least help you develop it."

Or they'll shelf the idea after claiming all rights to it and it will never be finished, Prowl thought to himself. It was a cynical thought but he'd heard rumors that made even that seem kind. Out loud though, he only offered a simple, "I'll think about. However, I would prefer to have a perfected schematic before I inform anyone else about this."

"Alright." Jazz answered quietly, watching the progress bar filling out slowly. He was very worried that something might go wrong but so far everything was fine. Slow, but nothing was out of the ordinary and Jazz found himself relaxing. Why had he ever doubted Prowl?  "If this works, you'll save so many lives."

"One can only hope..." That was his goal after all. So many had been lost in that attack and he refused to see such occur again. There would not be another Praxus.

Jazz pressed closer, resting his helm in the crook of Prowl's neck and enjoying the warmth from the other. "Either way, I'm proud of you. Selfless to a level of insanity but well..." He chuckled at his own words. "That's what makes you ridiculously cute." With that, Jazz settled for the long wait until the program was done.

It took the better part of a joor before the program finally reached completion. Then it was several more klicks as the unpacked data reorganized itself into the actual simulation program. Throughout that time the pair lay cuddled close, sometimes idly talking but more often not, as they waited. Finally though, Prowl's creation was ready for its first attempted simulation. That left Prowl stalling for a short while as he tried to determine a suitable scenario until a stray thought from earlier entered as his processor. He considered it quickly and decided why not? Sure it was ridiculous but he was fairly certain he knew the answer already so it would serve as an interesting trial.

Hoping Jazz wasn't paying any mind to his thoughts, Prowl sent the inquiry into the simulator with two sets of variables. The first was everything he knew related to the topic. The second set was 'Everything'. Full access to his processor. This was where the biggest risk he could see was, but it was also the most vital part. That full knowledge was where the vital details might lie. The first test began even as the second set of variables were being collected. It was an invasive process, even though he allowed the data collection, but it still left him enough processing power he could hold a conversation if he tried. Prowl felt no need to initiate one however, and left that for Jazz to choose to do. Unlike he had heard about traditional simulators though, there were no visualizations, not even the running strings of code that quantitative data was said to produce. It was something to note but he didn't allow himself to be concerned over it. Perhaps that was a design specific for those models after all.

Jazz was content to just lay there with Prowl, enjoying his presence. When was the last time he had simply cuddled up with him? Not as often as it used to be before Praxus was leveled. He basked in the closeness, in his warmth, in the quiet rumble of his vents. One servo was absently tracing patterns on Prowl's chest, careful of the prototype the Praxian balanced on his front. He was keeping an optic on the program, but everything was running smoothly. His mate knew what he was doing. Jazz smiled and pressed a light kiss on Prowl's cheek. He knew he was being overly touchy with Prowl, but the last time he had held Prowl like this was right after Praxus. And it wasn't a happy moment. So, Jazz didn't want to move and if he wasn't busy making sure everything ran smoothly, he would've drifted off to recharge.

Prowl allowed his thanks and happiness to fill his field rather than moving. There was no need to use more processing power than necessary as it might make the trial take even longer. Not that it seemed to be moving too slowly. The first set of variables had already granted him a result. Only 32.7% chance. Higher than he might have guessed but he could see why that was later, when he could study the test results indepth. Thankfully, the completion of the first test sped up the data collection for the second and so in the same amount of time it had taken to collect 35% of 'Everything', he was now watching the bar about to hit 100%.

Prowl did spare a moment to hug Jazz a little closer as the second test began. This one was sure to take at least twice as long to complete but maybe they could sneak in a little time together before his shift. Analyzing the data could wait until after and getting this far, with such a successful test run even!

It was about three joors later that the progress bar reached 100% and Jazz felt himself relax completely. Everything had run smoothly and without any kinks. Sitting up carefully as to not disconnect from Prowl still Jazz stretched his arms behind his back, popping them back into place. "So what now?" He asked Prowl. Plus, he needed to get ready for his shift.

"Now?" Prowl repeated as he carefully came back to full outside awareness. Sometime during the process he'd fallen into the peaceful lull of cuddling with his mate and while he hadn't actually been in recharge, his state hadn't been too far off. Perhaps he really hadn't been getting enough lately. Slowly he realized that he hadn't yet answered Jazz's question and forced his thoughts to that topic.

"Would you mind getting me an empty datapad?" he asked after a few more moments, gesturing to the small stack on his desk. "I need to save a copy of all the results before I shut it down, just in case nothing saves internally. That way I can study it all later."

"You're going to study all of the code?" Jazz asked, wincing at the amount of code Prowl had to go through, going to get an empty pad for Prowl from his desk. "That's...a lot. Reaaally a lot. You do know it's going to take forever to process all of it, right?" Jazz handed him the pad, still looking at Prowl as if the mech was a masochist.

"It's only necessary for the first few trials, to be certain the program is acting as it should." Prowl gave his answer as he started downloading everything from the two tests. "Then if anything needs adjusting I can simply deal in the section of code dedicated to that issue." He neglected to mention that if anything went majorly wrong later on he might still need to go through all of the code work, but Jazz already seemed horrified enough. Jazz never did like working with so much data.

After the time spent on the trials, it was unnerving that downloading the results to a datapad took only a couple klicks and so he double and triple-checked it. Everything seemed to be there, but Prowl saved, disconnected the pad and checked once more just to be sure. Still good. So he allowed the device to shut down and detached it once he was certain it had. Only then did he realize he hadn't actually checked the second result. An unfortunate oversight this time, but it didn't overly worry him as the inquiry was a joke anyway. There would be plenty of time to check it out later, but unfortunately their time together would also have to wait as it was nearly the start of his shift.

Stretching some more Jazz decided it was time to head out for his afternoon shift or else he risked the wrath of a rather twitchy superior with some temper issues. The last time someone was late, the officer had thrown a data pad out the window. Well, data pads as in plural.

"I'm going to head out Prowler." Jazz said, smiling.

"You do that," Prowl responded with a smile of his own before standing. He moved beside Jazz quickly and pressed a gentle kiss to his lipplating. "Thank you again for helping."

Jazz grinned after the kiss. "Glad to! Well, gotta run." With that, the Polyhexian literally sprinted out of the room.


	2. New Variables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl and Jazz are trying to find faster ways to do the simulations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter should have been up yesterday but I preferred to have it looked over before posting.   
> A big thank you to **silberstreif** for that! ^_^  
>  The first couple of chapters will contain more technical parts regarding the battle computer and how it works. Also, this chapter is a little more mature - it has the beginnings of a smut, but it ends before the real fun part starts.

The next morning found Jazz hugging his pillow, sprawled across the berth. He blinked, confused as to why there was a pillow and not a Praxian between his servos. Shifting, Jazz lifted his helm a little and found Prowl at his work place on the desk. He was plugged into the data pad from yesterday, optics dimmed and door-wings a little low on his back, but that was mostly due to the fact he was distracted. A part of Jazz really shouldn't have been surprised, but he had been hoping the mech would give himself a rest after having a successful first run with his prototype. 

 

"Did ya recharge at all?" Jazz mumbled sleepily. He wasn't a morning person. In fact if he could, he would stay in that berth the entire orn snuggling with his pillow, or preferably – his Praxian. 

 

"I did spend several joor curled up beside you," Prowl replied without looking over. "But you were already deep into recharge when I returned so I suppose you wouldn't know that."

 

The part he failed to mention was that he had not spent the time recharging at all. Almost immediately upon arriving, Prowl had collected the datapad he was still linked into and brought it over into the berth. Just because he had work to do didn't mean he couldn't at least be in a comfortable location while doing it. He had only gotten up and moved over to the work desk, because he'd caught himself being lulled into recharge by the very comfort he was seeking.

 

Jazz hummed, rolling on the berth and stretching. "Do ya have a lot more to look over on that pad?" Still, he didn't get up. It was nice and warm and he had a good view of Prowl working.

 

"Not too much more, no." Another not quite truth. There was still a fair amount to check, especially after finding that the result of the second test was far higher than it should have been. 83.975% chance! That shouldn't have been possible for the parameters he'd set and it required an extremely thorough check to determine the cause. Still, he was about 80% of the way through checking everything so comparatively he was close to finished. Besides, the spot next to Jazz was looking nicer by the nanoklick.

 

Disconnecting from the datapad, after carefully marking his place, Prowl stood. A few stretches of his own and then he was crossing the room. "How long until your next shift?"

 

"Have a night shift this orn," Jazz said, scooting to make some room for Prowl on the berth, though not letting go of his pillow. It was a Praxian quirk he had picked up to love all things soft. "You?"

 

"Morning shift tomorrow," Prowl answered as he slid in beside his mate. Ignoring the previous orn, this was the first time they'd been so close while both were online in far too long. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed it until right then and he wrapped his arms around the other for a tight embrace.

 

Jazz happily snuggled close to his mate, a playful grin playing on his face. "So... I have the orn off, you have the orn off..."

 

"So much time and nothing to do," Prowl agreed, pulling back slightly. He just needed enough room to reposition so he could offer Jazz another kiss. Unlike the previous one however, this one wasn't just a quick little peck. "Although I suppose between the two of us we could come up with something to do to pass the time."

 

"Oh? And what would that be?" Jazz chuckled, pecking Prowl on the lips in a teasing way. "I'm all out of ideas." And his frame temperature didn't rise all that much after Prowl's kiss, nope.

 

"Well I certainly know of one thing I could do," Prowl mused playfully before turning an intent gaze on his beautiful mate. "How about you?"

 

"I'm thinking you could show me." Jazz grinned, reaching with one hand to brush a door-wing. "Am I getting close?"

 

"You could be farther," Prowl admitted as he tried to hold back the reaction he knew Jazz was trying to coax from him. One of his own servos came up to stroke a sensor horn in retaliation.

 

Jazz hummed as a determined look crossed his face, visor dimming. "You know, I think you spend more time with that project of yours than you do with me." Gingerly, Jazz carefully found himself straddling Prowl. "Why should I be the one to do all the work, hmm? I think someone has some making up to do."

 

"That's an unfair assessment," Prowl argued but there was no malice in it. "Ever since our schedules changed, I've tried to only work on it when you weren't around." Even as he spoke though, Prowl was running his servos along what parts he could reach of the other's frame. He wasn't specifically seeking sensitive points, but neither did he shy away from them.

 

Jazz smirked. He leaned forward pressing his lips in a mind-blowing kiss that lasted over a breem, leaving him panting once he broke it. "Isn't that kind of you," Jazz murmured right next to his lips, cupping Prowl cheek with one hand and gently stroking his door-wing with the other, gaining a soft moan for his effort. "Y'know what else is unfair? Leaving your mate all needy like this."

 

"I see, and you're right." The Praxian allowed his regret and apology to show in his field as he brought one servo up to the back of Jazz's helm. Gently guiding his mate's helm, Prowl offered another long kiss and when he broke it was quick to ask, "However shall I make it up to you?"

 

Jazz's visor got even dimmer as his arousal grew and an almost predatory look grew on his face. "I know one thing you could do..." he murmured and took one of Prowl servos, guiding it to his stomach plating and slowly letting it slip lower. 

 

"Anything you want, lover." He would happily oblige nearly any request his mate had, especially in a situation like this where any request was only bound to increase their pleasure. Even when Jazz released his grip, Prowl let his servo continue ever so slowly downwards until he lightly grazed across his mate's interface panel. Though the words suggested otherwise, Prowl kept his tone playful as he made his next comment. "What can I do to prove how sorry I am?"

 

"Well..."  If possible, Jazz's grin would've split his face in two when he retracted his cover. 

 

* * *

 

Prowl was getting frustrated. His project had garnered some interesting results, but that was the problem.

 

His initial inquiry had been something of a joke; the odds of Jazz being able to read minds. The first result had been a little high at 32.7% likelihood, but still made sense. There was no such thing after all and scanning through the data had revealed the outlying information that had skewed the probability. That had required a slight coding modification, which they had tested quickly in the next orn and found it did indeed improve the functionality. All in all, a successful couple trials there.

 

However, the second calculation of the initial inquiry, the chances Jazz could read minds given everything Prowl knew (both in active and stored memory), had been impossibly high - 87.9%.

 

When he'd seen that result, the Praxian had needed to scour through all the data to determine the source so he could adjust the glitched code. Those test results accounted for more than 90% of the information on the datapad, so it had been extremely slow going. When he finally got through, almost a decaorn and a half later in between shifts and an unanticipated Decepticon skirmish that left a quarter of the crew minorly injured (thankfully neither he nor Jazz were among that number), the results were startling. For all he thought he knew that mind reading wasn't a reality, apparently his memory core held clues to exactly the opposite.

 

A probable profile for potential telepaths had even been built. Not only that, additional simulations had been run during that initial test to determine the likelihood of the very existence of such skills, leading to that profile. Additional testing that he hadn't defined, nor would have even known about if he hadn't studied the results.

 

That last was most interesting. A sort of pseudo intelligence, artificially created, that could determine for itself when testing outside the given parameters needed to be performed. If he could maintain that while continuing to adjust and improve his simulator, there was no doubt in his processor that he could create the very thing that would save the most lives, and perhaps even, ideally, end the war.

 

"Well." Suddenly Jazz's voice filled the room as the door to their quarters opened. "Everyone's kinda bummed out because of the battle." He entered the locking code and turned to look at his lover. "The party's dead."  

 

Prowl, as usual these past deca-cycle was hunched up at his desk, working on his project. "You know, you should adopt it," he snickered. "Seeming as you keep dotting the thing like a sparkling." Feeling a little buzzed from the high grade, Jazz went next to his mate and leaned on the desk. "You're _still_ analyzing data?"

 

A flash of irritation shot through Prowl at how inconsiderate Jazz's words were, but he pushed it away. It wouldn't be the first time he had misinterpreted his mate's jokes as insults. Instead of the snapped sort of reply he had made when they first met, Prowl skipped the offending part in order to answer the question. "Not analyzing, no, I finished that this morning. There was an unexpected development, however, and I'm trying to decide how to proceed."

 

"Oh?" Missing Prowl's sour mood Jazz, leaned a little more in Prowl, asking: "What development? Need some help?"

 

"During one of our trials there were a few additional simulations run," Prowl tried to explain. "Simulations that I neither requested nor even knew occurred. I only know about them now because I noticed them in the data I went through."

 

"Is that good or bad?" Jazz asked, blinking. "Doesn't that make your creation, y'know, smarter? For starting several additional simulations on its own."

 

"This project isn't a sparkling, Jazz." Although a certain level of AI could develop in similar ways, not that his programming was anywhere near that advanced. "It can be more or less advanced, but not smarter or stupider. As for whether it's a positive or negative development that remains to be seen.

That was not something I designed when building the program, but it does show incredible potential. Of course, I also have to be more careful, because I don't know which strings of code caused this development and changing the wrong commands could easily shatter it."

 

Jazz nodded through the explanation. It made sense. But it still left him feeling rather useless. Sometimes, rare as they were, he felt as if he and his lover spoke different languages. Jazz wasn't stupid, far from it actually. But Prowl had potential that could put most mechs to shame.

 

Moving from the desk Jazz plopped on their berth, still watching the Praxian. After a couple of breems when Prowl seemed to have returned to working, the visored mech sighed, loudly. "I'm booored," Jazz said. Plus, everyone was a little down due to the recent skirmish, there was nothing to occupy Jazz's attention. Beside his mate that is. " _Lover_."

 

"Well find something to occupy yourself with then," Prowl replied without even looking up. "I'm still trying to determine the appropriate adjustments to make so unless you're interested in another trial, I can't help you." He had hesitated slightly in adding the latter half because Jazz had complained after the last test about hating how slow and dull the process was. Admittedly it was, he had to agree to that, but the only way things could feasibly move any faster would be if he could watch the results as they were compiled, but then that would only speed the analysis side of the situation.

 

"Another trial?" Jazz perked up at that, sitting on the berth and looking at Prowl with a bright visor. "Sure! That means more cuddles for us. I'm game!"

 

Prowl couldn't help his lips turning up in a smile, and not only because Jazz had agreed. His mate was always cute, but he became exceptionally so when he was excited, like right now. "Are you certain you want to help?" he had to ask, even though it had high odds of being detrimental to the situation.

 

"Of course!" Jazz said and scooted at the berth. "Come on over here, I don't mind helping out one bit." Plus, after seeing that Prowl's project was safe Jazz was more calm and open about it. Also, Prowl seemed really invested in it, so Jazz was determined to show his support. "Like last time?"

 

It took no further convincing for Prowl to cross the room to his mate's side. He easily settled in beside the other, making sure to find a safe place for his prototype. He had done a bit of physical modification to it as well, while stuck on how to proceed with the code, and so it had slimmed down slightly. It was still a fragile piece though. "Unless you have an alternate idea," Prowl replied in jest.

 

"Last time it took _forever_ ," Jazz said, emphasizing the forever part. "Not to mention the time you spent working on analyzing the data." The visored mech shrugged. "I have no ideas on how to speed this up, lover, sorry." It's not that he minded the cuddle part with Prowl, oh no. It was the other part he was irritated with, the one that took all of Prowl's free time.

 

"There is something we could try," Prowl mentioned. He hadn't intended to bring it up but the situation warranted it. "There's a chance the analysis could go quicker if I watched the data as it is being processed. I might be able to notice issues as they occur and possibly even track the source so I can find the appropriate code later."

 

That startled him.  Jazz looked at Prowl as if he's lost his mind, but then he processed the idea a couple of times in his head. It _did_ seem practical, not to mention logical... "Yeah, that could speed things up..." He trailed off, thinking, "But will it work? I mean, I really have no idea what to do and the last thing I want is to mess something up."

 

"There's no reason it shouldn't," Prowl answered. Jazz's concern did raise some doubt for him too, but he pushed it aside for now. This was the testing period after all, it was almost a necessity that there would be a few failures. True genius lay in learning from those failures to make the finished product perfect. "We already know it won't forcibly overclock your processor and burn it out at least. If that were going to happen then it would have occurred already and I haven't made any coding changes this time." He shared a small smile with his mate, "so you're safe."

 

"I know you would never put me in harm’s way, Prowler," Jazz said, holding complete trust in his lover and shifted on the berth, looking at the device Prowl held. "Though ya gotta tell me what I'm supposed to do." He snickered. "Plus, I'm sliiightly buzzed. On one side, I'm a real easy lay right now. On the other side, that won't hinder the progress, right?" He had Prowl to worry over the technical stuff, he would help out whatever way he could, especially if it gave the Praxian more free time.

 

Said Praxian gave a soft ex-vent. "Your interface capabilities are hardly in question here," he teased. "But if you're so worried about them we could test those skills after this?"

 

"Oh," purred Jazz. "That's a given. I'm just making sure. Wouldn't want to redo the test, y'know? Though, if the end result always leads to making sure those capabilities are in working order, then I won’t mind if we have to do the test again. And again." He opened his neck port, grinning at his lover.

 

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Prowl answered with a playful grin. "But work first, then we can play."

 

Taking Jazz's open port as invitation, he unraveled the simulator's cable and brought the end to his mate's neck. He did give a small warning before making the connection though. "It will feel strange, being plugged in with nothing on the other end, but once you activate it that sensation mostly goes away."

 

"Okay." Jazz nodded, feeling the connector hover but still not plug in and gently placed his hand over Prowl's not pushing him away, just halting him for a moment. "But you never said what I have to do! I just watch the progress bar as before? Or do I have to set the parameters, or that's you?"

 

"It's alright, Jazz. I'll guide you as we go along. I do need to be plugged in as well to watch." There was no other way to get information from the simulator as it did only have one connection point after all. "And I have everything ready for you to input once we begin. I was just planning to let you adjust to this process slowly."

 

"Alright then," Jazz said and let go of Prowl's hand and opened the neck port at the other side of his helm. It felt weird, to say the least having both ports open. Usually for a medic one was more than enough; the same goes if you want to want to interface with someone. Using two or more was something rare. "So, this gonna be enough?" Jazz asked, wanting to cuddle with Prowl.

 

Prowl gave a nod before connecting the simulator cable. He hesitated for an astrosecond but pulled out his own although he didn't plug in immediately. "Tell me when you're ready for me to join."

 

The only reason Jazz was even allowing this to happen was the trust he had in his lover. He didn't link up with just anyone. If this stupid war wasn't happening, he and Prowl would've bonded a long time ago. Still, Jazz shifted, arranging himself and Prowl comfortably on the berth as he made sure the cables of the device and the one plugged in him didn't tangle up. "Ready." He smiled at Prowl. "Don't worry."

 

"I'm not," Prowl replied. They had ended up curled up again, as they always did the moment they lay down together, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Jazz's helm, where it was all but pressed against him anyway. "You'll do wonderful." And then he plugged into Jazz's port.

 

They went through the initial security measures of determining one another was safe to be allowed access, but even after Prowl hung back mentally as he waited to see if any firewalls would drop. Jazz had always been the more cautious one between them when it came to this sort of thing. He hadn't asked why, simply accepted it and was always mindful of that sensitivity. Thankfully the simulation computer was another outside source so all firewalls could remain firmly in place and this should still work, but he did want Jazz to feel as comfortable as possible before they began.

 

Jazz's visor dimmed as his concentration shifted inward. Curious, he carefully dropped down all the necessary firewall that would give his lover access to anything he might need. For the more personal files Jazz had a separate set of firewalls and they were cataloged in a different part of his processor. He would allow Prowl access if he needed it, though he doubted that. Plus, there were some things he wasn't ready to show yet. Some things were meant only for a bond. One they still didn't have. 

 

Still, he felt both Prowl's presence and the one of the simulator. Prowl was already marked as safe in his processor a long time ago, so dropping firewalls for him came easily and didn't take that much time. Now Jazz did the same for the simulator, tagging it and placing a label 'safe'. If they did this again, the firewalls should drop down automatically.

 

"What should I do? You'll be operating the thing, right?"

 

"You're the one connected to it directly, so you'll be feeding in the commands. Just pass along what I send you and everything should run fine. If there is a problem though, I'm here to help." Prowl had long since learned how to minimize his influence over a partner while connected through cables and with Jazz it was an especially useful skill. Still, he wanted to keep him feeling optimal so he focused his own presence into a ball of calmness. If Jazz needed the comfort then he could reach out for it but otherwise Prowl would simply remain as unobtrusive as possible. "You can do this. I have faith in you."

 

"Only one way to find out."

 

Jazz followed Prowl's instructions and guides. He pulled up the program and initiated it, setting the parameters his lover wanted. It was a simple simulation, though even still Jazz knew how deep in his processor it'll delve to get all the information it could. He wasn't fond of the idea, and could already feel the AI hovering right there at the edge of his consciousness, ready to scour his mind. Jazz didn't need to be a genius to know the program was aggressive. And if Prowl did this right, it would be very powerful. 

 

After triple checking all the parameters were set right, and a light brush against the consciousness of his lover, Jazz initiated the program. Prowl was right, it did feel strange. Like something cold was slowly trickling inside his helm. It didn't hurt, it was just... odd. But after a couple of breems he got used to the sensation.

 

"Huh, it's set as a background program." Jazz observed the progress bar. Over 60 per cent of his CPU was diverted to the program, but that still left a significant part free. He could do other mundane tasks this way even, like read or write. "Though it does feel a little weird." He squirmed.

 

"It's intended to be ever present so simulations can be started instantly, but to operate without interfering with active thought processes," Prowl explained. "Bringing it to the active task in your processor should, theoretically, make it run faster as well but I would advise against that if a situation would require the ability to react." 

 

"So we just lay on the berth like last time?" Jazz asked, reaching up with a servo to lightly touch the jack in his neck port connecting him with the simulator. "Hope it's faster now. Is it working? Can you analyze the data this way?"

 

Prowl remained silent as he cautiously reached out to access the simulator's data, mindful of what reactions that might cause in his mate's processor. When nothing went badly, he turned his attention to what the program was doing and after several nanoklicks of examination, he finally answered Jazz. "I won't be able to process it all as it runs but this should greatly decrease the amount of time I need to spend later. And what about you? How are you feeling?"

 

Jazz let go of the cable he was tracing with his fingers and just shrugged next to Prowl. He could feel the program in the back of his helm, but that was it. "Fine. For some reason I expected this thing to really drain my mind or to swallow all of my CPU power, or to even hurt. But when you did it a couple of times and nothing happened..." Jazz let out a chuckle. "Actually, it's kinda boring, just waiting for the results like this."

 

"I'm glad your fears proved unfounded." A smile was offered to Jazz as Prowl moved an arm to bring their servos together before giving a gentle squeeze. "And no, deactivation from boredom is just a myth. Besides..." Here he gave a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and devious. "Just think of your reward when this is over."

 

"Reward?" Jazz grinned, a wicked look crossing his face, tracing the cable connecting him with Prowl to the mech's arm. "Now that's some motivation you are giving me. Can I make the program run faster?" And then he added with a chuckle as an afterthought, "And mechs say I'm the devious one."

 

Prowl gave an embarrassed wing flutter, but managed to keep any shame off his faceplates. "I thought we had already covered that," he managed to force out.

 

"Hmm, so now that's a dilemma," Jazz said with a teasing smile. "Should I prioritize the program and let it take all of my CPU's power, but really kick it into gear, leaving you bored and alone for that period. Or, should I keep you company and wait for the program to run its course, working you up?"

 

"Don't forget," the Praxian countered even as he forcibly cut the command for his fans to start up. It wasn't so much that it was embarrassing as it would only encourage Jazz to tease that much more. "If you distract me too much then I won't be able to study the analysis as it's happening and that will make this entire venture all for naught."

 

"Hmm, well I seem to have an answer then," Jazz said. "So, I'll go silent then, give you time to think of all the things you'll do to "reward" me when this is over." With that, Jazz pulled the program forward and allowed it full access to his CPU. Enabling that, he suddenly lost all feeling with the rest of the room, even his body and all he had access to was the program itself and a way out of this mode. Though, he could clearly see that it sped things up considerably. Prowl hadn't done it last time but then again, he was still being very careful for kinks in the program. After so many test drives it was safe to assume that this wouldn't cause trouble. Now all he had to do was wait. Jazz didn't mind, though he did wonder if this way Prowl could gather all the needed data.

 

Prowl too focused inward when Jazz did, willfully dropping his sense of the world beyond his frame. It was a severely disconcerting sensation when done without focus, but he had other things to concentrate on so it wouldn't be nearly as bothersome. It wasn't hard to track the data the simulator was using nor its own output, although he had been correct in assuming he couldn't follow all of it. At least he could maintain pace with it well enough to be certain there were no errors and when it finished he wasn't too far behind. At least with the basic examination.

 

Prowl made sure to withdraw sufficiently as quickly as he could afterwards. Jazz might not like how entangled their minds had been (no further than he had been allowed, naturally) when he came back to himself, after all. Turning his own attention outwards as he waited, Prowl pulled a datapad from his subspace to offer to Jazz so he could download the full results when he was aware again.

 

When the program was finally over Jazz started to slowly return back to his frame. This was slower than the withdraw as every system had to be re-accessed all over again, but it did give Jazz time to think how much faster this had gotten then the first try he had performed with Prowl. It had taken joors to complete that simulation, and it wasn't even a big one! Now, if Jazz's chronometer was right, it was only half a joor since this simulation began (plus they fumbled a lot to make sure everything is in working order before starting it), so this was exceptionally fast. 

 

Audio was one of the first things to come back online and vision was the last. His visor flickered a couple of times, recalibrating and Jazz couldn't help but grin at his lover when he came into view. "Well, that was unnerving." Now that was an understatement as Jazz felt all jittery and wanted to get up and jump up and down a couple of times to actually feel that everything was still there, as it was common after a mech leaves his frame like that. "I want extra compensation," he murmured. The only reason he even allowed this to happen was due to the immense trust he had in Prowl. 

 

"And you shall have all you deserve and more," Prowl murmured so as to not aggravate Jazz's sensitive hearing if it were still properly recalibrating. He had already moved out of their connection and now carefully disconnected his cable before offering the datapad to Jazz. "But first you need to save the results to here. Do you remember where to find those?"

 

"Yup." Jazz's CPU may seem cluttered and disorganized to someone who knew him, but in actuality everything was where the Polyhexian wanted it to be, including all the data from the simulator. He took the data-pad and easily connected with it, downloading everything from this session on it in a couple of breems. "Enjoy," he said smiling and handed his lover the data pad, which was quickly subspace. He reached to the only cable remaining, the one linking him to the simulator. "Can I take it out now so we can play?"

 

"Did you remember to shut it down?" While he had no doubts that Jazz was intelligent enough to do so without direct instruction, his lover had also consumed a fair amount of high grade and so might forget simple tasks in his pursuit of other, more interesting, ideas.

 

"Of course! That was the first thing I did after I onlined." He grinned, happy that his mind wasn't occupied by other presences and pulled out the jack, handing it back to his lover. "This was quite fast, if I do say so myself," Jazz said, pleased with the results.

 

"That did go much faster," Prowl agreed as he stood to return the prototype to its proper place. "Even if it doesn't alleviate much of the time I need in order to study the results, at least it did greatly shorten the testing period." He gave Jazz a smile as he came back to their berth. Another thought entered his processor and he mentioned it almost immediately. "If you'd be willing to help out this way every time then we might be able to expedite the finished product."

 

"But I thought that this way it would shorten the time you need to slave over all of the data," Jazz said, his good mood vanishing a little as he scooted over to give Prowl more space. "I don't mind, not at all. I'm actually happy I can contribute, but I just thought this would free your time and you could actually rest after shifts..." Sure, the time to run the simulation was considerably faster, but the time Prowl would need to look over all of the data hadn’t changed that much.

 

"It should, yes," he agreed. "But I haven't gone through the data yet so that's still only an assumption. I could make that attempt right now, but I was intending to spend this time with you instead. Besides, if we can speed the entire process, don't you find that a worthwhile venture?"

 

Jazz's smile returned. "Okay, so long as I'm actually helping. And pit _no_ , I don't want you attempting that now. You have other business to attend to." He pressed closer, reaching with a hand to stroke Prowl's cheek, stroking his thumb under his optic. "Now, weren't you going to 'extra' compensate me?"

 

"Shouldn't we get started before you complain you haven't gotten the extra yet?" The comment was made teasingly as he leaned in closer to offer Jazz a slow kiss.

 

The visored mech eagerly returned the kiss, tangling his legs with Prowl's in an attempt to get even closer. When the kiss finally broke, Jazz panted, staring at Prowl with a dimmed visor. "I like the way you're thinking," Jazz said, nuzzling the Praxian. "I don't know how I'll manage to wait for the war to end for us to bond. You know how much I love you?"

 

"I love you too," Prowl replied in full honesty. His next statement was made in a more somber tone, "and we'll manage because we have to. We might not like this war and wish it were over already, but if not for it we may never have met and for that reason alone I don't wish it never began." He pulled Jazz a little closer as he spoke, hugging him tight. "Even if I hate myself for that sometimes too."

 

An astrosecond later though, he pulled away just a little to catch his mate's optics. "But let's not waste time acting melancholy tonight. I do still need to reward you for your hard work."

 

His lover nodded. Prowl was right, as always, about everything. “Indeed you do,” Jazz murmured, visor giving a deep glow. “I want us both to make love so fragging _hard_ tonight that we forget everything.” He grinned in challenge then, hand reaching to caress a door-wing. “Think you can manage that?”

 

"You know how skilled I am at rising to any challenge," Prowl replied with a grin of his own, only barely keeping back any sounds from Jazz's touch as he brought a hand up to trail along the other's frame. He moved slow, teasing at a few sensitive points while avoiding others. "So yes, I'm certain I can."

 

"Then show me," Jazz breathed those words right across Prowl's lips, frame heating up from the other's touch.

 

Prowl claimed those lips that were so close in another searing kiss as his touch finally moved to his mate's interface panel. He gently traced the outline of the seam while lightly licking at Jazz's lips; asking for permission and entry both ways.

 

Jazz _tried_ ; he really, really tried to hold on as long as he could. He even deepened the kiss and moaned, tangling their glossas, grinding against his lover but, Primus, those hands scraping his panel and those lips against his own... 

 

"Someone's eager!" Jazz gasped as he broke the kiss for air, at the same time retracting his panel. Prowl's hand there made him squirm like always and he reached with his own to stroke more firmly against the base of the door-wing, right inside the joint.

 

Prowl couldn't resist arching into the touch. His wings were always sensitive but something about being around Jazz always made them feel even more so. There was just something about the mech that made everything feel so amazing.

 

"Almost as eager as you always are?" he teased in return. Not that he found Jazz's interests to be at all negative. Quite the opposite in fact. Especially in times like this.

 

Jazz laughed, pulling his head back and exposing his throat cables as Prowl delivered little kisses on them. They may call his lover still and cold, but Jazz knew just how warm the Praxian could be. It made him cherish these little moment all the more as he knew they were exclusive just for him. "Ya better do somethin', less ya want me ta melt." His accent got heavier as the charge grew.

 

"Just one more question, lover." Prowl spoke low, drawing out the words and the moment as he continued his gentle, teasing touches. "What do you want? Tell me how you want me to pleasure you tonight."

 

Jazz felt himself grow even warmer at those words as he breathed his own, "I want you to want me just as much as I want you."

 

And knew this was only the beginning.

 

 


	3. Code Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going faster now that Prowl and Jazz collaborate the work on the battle computer, with Prowl analyzing the data and Jazz donating his processor for the job. However things can't always go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The chapter isn't beta's so I'm sorry for any and all mistakes that you see ^^"  
> Enjoy!

The orn had started like any other one. 

 

He had a morning shift while Prowl had an evening one. So after he had finished work Jazz didn’t feel like staying alone in their quarters and went to hang out with the mechs currently in the rec room, namely Blaster and his cassettes. 

 

It wasn't Blaster's fault, really. Jazz's orn had started out rocky anyway - he and Prowl had stayed late last night to work on his pet project so he wasn't exactly rested. Not to mention he had been called early in to help encrypt some messages being sent from their base to another one without letting the signal get detected. 

 

So, really, it wasn't Blaster's fault, nor that of his cassettes that  when the music, which wasn't even that loud, along with the constant  chatter, went straight to Jazz's head and caused his already short  temper to flare and snap at Blaster, "Could ya lot be any more nosier?"  

 

"Jazz?" Blaster looked at the mech as if he had lost his mind. 

 

Jazz blinked, realizing he had been harsher than necessary and just not in a mood, decided to retreat after this. He had an unwritten rule about avoid anyone when his mood went south like this. Many would be surprised how helpful this little rule turned out - no reason to take ones frustrations on others who had no fault. 

 

It was only in the silence of his and Prowl's quarters that he actually felt the dull throb in his helm, that once he thought about, he had been feeling it all orn. With an annoyed sigh he went to their small wash racks for a shower in hopes of washing away his headache.

 

Later that orn, the room was empty when Prowl returned from his shift, which wasn't altogether too unusual. Jazz did have friends and a tendency to while away his time with them when the Praxian was on shift.  Usually he was back first, but again, Jazz didn't always pay mind to the time. 

 

Stepping inside allowed the door to slide shut, blocking out the  ambient noise of the hallway beyond and only then did Prowl hear the  running water. Jazz must be in their wash racks then. Alright, he may as well get back to his project as he waited on the other.

 

It wasn't until almost a joor later that Prowl refocused from his task back to the rest of reality. Something was different but he couldn't pinpoint what had changed because a quick scan revealed the room to be exactly the same as before. That thought had to process twice before he realized that Jazz still wasn't around. 

 

Refocusing his sensors towards the wash racks, Prowl found silence. That was curious. Curious enough to bring him to his pedes and across the ten steps it took to reach the door, almost before he even decided to move. A servo came up and he hesitated an astrosecond because it would be embarrassing to again knock just as the door opened. Jazz did have terrible timing for opening doors on him. Concern for his mate overtook worries about embarrassment the next nanoklik  and he gently rapped on the door.

 

"Is everything alright, Jazz?"

 

Jazz’s sensitive hearing alerted him to the knocking.  He blinked a couple of times, visor recalibrating as he realized he had  fallen asleep in the old and quite used bath tub the small wash racks  possessed. Sometimes he was impressed what perks he had to be placed with a door-winger in one room, especially if said door-winger was his lover. 

 

He had felt so relaxed in the warm waters and his head-ache had ebbed away. He hadn’t even noticed when he had drifted into a light recharge.  Now though the water was quite cool, but he felt significantly better.  Jazz stood up to rinse himself off.  

 

“I’ll be out in a klick!” He called as he finished rinsing himself off  and took a cloth hanging from the wall to dry himself as he opened the  door and saw that Prowl had returned. “Heya, when did ya come back?  Didn’t hear you.”

 

"I've not been back too long," Prowl answered smoothly. It wasn't exactly a lie and if Jazz hadn't noticed his arrival then why burden them both with useless details? "You seemed preoccupied however, so I decided to leave you alone until you had been in there longer than usual. Is everything alright? You're not injured, are you?"

 

Jazz nodded at Prowl’s explanation and went to greet him properly with a chaste kiss before responding. “Nah, just fell in recharge in the tub. Every thing’s cool. Ya worry too much about me sometimes.” 

 

Jazz gave him a grin at that and went to sit on their berth, the one next to Prowl’s work place, back resting against the wall. “So how was yer orn?”

 

"Well enough I suppose." The answer suggested there  was a lot more left unsaid but the winged mech only added a tiny bit  more as he, too, sat. "No problems worse than the usual. What about your orn? Did you manage to track Blaster down?"

 

Jazz made a face at Blaster’s name, idly tapping his fingers on the berth. He had acted mean to the mech without him actually deserving it. He had to apologize later when he saw him. “Yup, found him. So, what are our plans for tonight?”

 

It was Prowl's turn to inadvertently make a face. "I'm having troubles with some of the data we've collected so I'm going to suggest we push back this orn's trial until I can analyze it properly. Which leaves our schedule open for whatever you might have in mind."

 

The grin that blossomed on the visored mech's face spoke for itself, and expecting such, Prowl offered a smile of his own in return. Recharge that night was certainly a long way away for them both.

* * *

Jazz was sprawled on the berth on his stomach plating, lifting a leg and swinging it back and forth once in a while as he idly watched the latest news reports on his data pad. Prowl was, as usual, at his work place on the desk, the prototype of the battle computer next to him. 

 

A data pad showed him the progress of the  simulation, connected to the machine with a cable at one end, while at  the other was the cable connecting Jazz’s neck port to it as the program  ran in the back on his processor. The cable was perfect for the short distance, since the berth was right next to the desk. 

 

Both weren’t in a hurry and the simulation wasn’t all that complicated  either, Prowl just wanted to check some stuff that Jazz really had no  idea what. The perk of the program, as always, was that it left a significant part of his processor free so Jazz could talk to Prowl or read data-pads. 

 

“We could go visit Polyhex once our next leave comes?” Jazz suggested as he looked up from the pad at Prowl, watching his own pad intently.

                                                               

Prowl paused in his work to consider the suggestion.  Slowly he turned towards Jazz. "That's an unexpected suggestion. What brought this idea on?"

 

Jazz just shrugged, not looking at Prowl. How can he voice out that he wanted to visit his home, just in case if followed one orn the fate of Praxus? How could he ask Prowl something like this without sounding selfish, because Polyhex was still standing....and Praxus was not.

 

"Haven't been there in many vorns... plus, I always wanted to show it to ya."

 

Prowl hesitated once again. This conversation was froth with pitfalls and emotional land mines. It was no wonder Jazz was being cautious. "I'm sure it will be just as amazing as the memories you’ve shared with me."

 

Jazz finally dared to look at Prowl, visor brightening in hope and excitement. He was so worried Prowl might get upset (not that Jazz could blame him, who wouldn’t in his situation?).  The thought of seeing his own home was enough to make him vibrate with happiness. He sat up on his knees, careful of the cable connecting him to the prototype. 

 

"Really? Oh, you'll love it there! I have so many things I want to show you. Everybody is super friendl--" 

 

Whatever Jazz was going to say was forgotten as a sudden sharp pain assaulted his head, making his words fill with static. Just as it came, the pain disappeared, leaving him disoriented for a moment.

 

"Jazz?"

 

Prowl couldn't help the instinctive concern when Jazz cut off into static. That definitely wasn't normal, even by the Polyhexian's standards, and it concerned him greatly. "What happened? Are you alright?"

 

"Owww," Jazz winced, hands clutching his helm, visor offline, "What-what the frag?!" It felt as if he had been literally been shot through his head. He finally dared to online his visor and look at Prowl, "No slagging idea, I-- Oww!" Again, his sentence was cut short as another wave of pain shot through his helm, this time stronger, leaving him panting and clutching his head.

 

Prowl was already out of his seat and had moved beside the other. At that point though he was unsure what to do. Would contact hurt Jazz more? Did he have some injury he hadn't mentioned? "What do I do?" he finally asked, at a loss of ideas.

 

"Tell me what's happenin'!" Jazz gritted out, pressing his helm close to Prowl as another shooting pain assaulted his helm. "Hurts, dammit, owwww!" Jazz kept his vision off. "Feels like someone is hitting me with a hammer--" His words cut off into static again and Jazz curled on himself, "Frag it, oww!"

 

Prowl carefully pulled Jazz close as quickly as he dared. "You'll be alright," he offered softly. "This will pass and you'll be just fine…"

 

Belatedly, Prowl recalled the test they had been in the middle of and reached over to shut down the prototype. No sense in trying to collect data now and maybe turning it off would ease the strain on his mate's processor. It was unlikely to help much, but it couldn't hurt him worse. Hopefully…

                                                                                      

Jazz gritted his denta as a pain wave hit him again, but it seemed to be the last one because after it all that was left was the dull ache in his helm. He could feel his spark pulsating. It was then he realized he was clutching Prowl and pulled away slightly, turning on his visor that had a paler, sickish color. 

 

"....Do you see a hole on my head, because I'm pretty sure someone drilled one..."  He winced.

 

"Oh Jazz…"

 

Prowl was at a loss. His mate was clearly suffering but they couldn't exactly take him to the Medbay because that would bring up too many questions. Maybe there was a way to get him some relief though. "Would you like me to go see a medic? They still don't understand wings on this base so I can use that to get a pain blocker for you?"

 

Jazz shook his head, both to clear it and to say no. "Too risky." He didn't need medics asking unnessacery questions. He was tempted to go to the wash racks and just stay under the solvent water - that always helped - but he didn’t trust his legs right now. He just laid back on the berth, even that small movement causing him to feel dizzy. But no sharp pain wave which was good. He could deal feeling dizzy and have a head ache - however that drilling pain was something else entirely. 

 

"It's... It's fine." Jazz said, hand still on his helm, "The worst of it is gone. My head is just pounding now."

 

"I'm sorry," Prowl offered, even more uncertain now of what he could say or do. An astrosecond later, he decided to add, "I wish I could make the pain go away. I hate seeing you hurting."

 

Jazz relaxed back into the pillow and lightly tugged at Prowl to join him on the berth. The Praxian complied, easily wrapping his arm around Jazz and using his digits to gently caress a sensor horn. Jazz purred, the action easing some of the train on his helm, enough to make him sleepy. 

 

“You can go into recharge.” Prowl offered quietly, not stopping his caress as it was helping Jazz. 

 

“Hmmm.” Jazz just sighed and snuggled closer to Prowl, taking in his scent and off lining his visor. 

 

“Yeah... G’night. Wake me up for m’shift.” He muttered, already drifting.  

 

“I will.” Prowl murmured, pressing him close. 

* * *

Sadly, the headaches didn’t stop. 

 

But luckily they weren’t that often either and sometimes weren’t that bad. But one orn Prowl did go to the med bay and requested for pain blockers, with the intention for his door-wings. He didn’t care about the risk – his mate was in pain and Prowl couldn’t stand for it. So now if Jazz had a headache they were prepared for it. 

 

Prowl would’ve preferred if they just went to see a medic to see what  was the reason for these headaches Jazz was getting, because they worried him. Plus, Jazz said that there were no error messages on his part, so they were at loss what the cause could be. Today however, Prowl had acquired a rare batch of special Polyhexian sweets. 

 

The other night Jazz had a headache, bad enough that he couldn’t attend the party the base had. That soured the visored mech’s mood more than the pain itself, so Prowl hoped these sweets would make Jazz happy. The hardest of it was the feeling of helplessness, because there was nothing he could but hold his mate until the pain passed away. This way he at least lied to himself that he was doing something. 

 

“Primus!” Jazz exclaimed, careful with the cable connecting him to the machine, “These are soooo good!” He took another bite from the special rust stick, “Where did ya find them?” 

 

Prowl looked up from the data pad and smiled. “I have my sources.”  

 

Jazz snorted and laid back on the berth, nibbling on the rust stick.  “Yeah right.” 

 

“How are you feeling?” Prowl couldn’t help but ask. 

 

“Fine. Don’t worry, I haven’t had a headache since the other orn with the party.” Jazz said, crossing his legs on the berth. 

 

“I was thinking that maybe, we should see a medic.” Prowl said. 

 

Jazz tilted his helm up and frowned. “If they find out what yer doing they could kick ya out of the army.” 

 

“You were perfectly fine a couple of weeks ago. I don’t understand what the cause of this could be.” 

 

Jazz shrugged, not wanting to talk about this. “We’ll go see one after our sparkling is fully grown.” 

 

Prowl sighed. “It is not a sparkling, Jazz.” Though it might as well be, the way it was growing and advancing. Every orn Prowl tweaked at it, it had a different shape or something new on it.

 

Jazz snickered and sat up again, reached at the desk for another rust stick. 

 

However his hand never reached it. Suddenly, his arm fell limply next to his frame; his visor flickered a couple of times until only one side of it was lit, the other was offline and Jazz just slumped in the berth.

 

Prowl didn't notice immediately, distracted by a strange anomaly in his readout, but when Jazz didn't follow up with another teasing comment he quickly looked over. What he saw sent a jolt of terror straight to his spark.

 

"Jazz!" The shout was involuntary as he jumped up to be closer to the other mech and begin his search for any locatable damage or threats. Jazz did work in more dangerous territory than he and the Decepticons constantly seemed to develop new weapons with varied results. He could only hope this wasn't permanent.

 

Jazz could see the mech in front of him... Prowl. It was Prowl. He said something. Oh, it was his name...  Something was wrong. Jazz blinked, causing the remaining light in his visor to flicker. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't make out what. The words... What were the words? He just stared at the mech...  The mech called Prowl.

 

Upon finding no clear cause, Prowl attempted to wake the other, shaking his frame gently. Just in case. "This isn't funny, Jazz. Stop playing around."

 

When it clearly didn't work (and he could only hope his mate wouldn't continue such a terrifying charade when he was so visibly scared; the small tremors running through his own frame cause his wings to positively _quiver_ ), Prowl returned to more likely options. Something was definitely wrong. He just had to figure out what. He could do this. He could.

 

But when several kliks passed with no success, Prowl had to admit he was slowly caving to panic. He'd not found any reason Jazz would be in such a condition and nothing he did seemed to have any effect. Nothing. Nothing at all…

 

Finally, after another couple kliks of consideration, Prowl was willing to concede defeat and take the ultimate risk. Jazz needed a medic's attention. They could only hope their little side project couldn't be traced because of this incident. But even if it could, Jazz's life was most important.

 

That was, however, a reminder. The prototype was still connected. Carefully Prowl shut it down even as most of his attention remained on his mate. No change outwardly, but the Praxian was paranoid now and decided to attempt plugging into the other, just to make sure no harm had come to him internally. They had shared base access codes so there would be no trace of him as an outside threat.

 

There were hands on his frame and the other saying something again. Jazz wanted to answer him, but he couldn't; he didn't know how. Everything was so confusing right now. He kept watching those door-wings flutter; they were pretty. Jazz wanted to touch them but the command to move his hand was useless. It was then that he felt the other plug into him and a strangely familiar presence appeared. It felt nice.

 

Internally things were so different. Jazz's systems and mind felt so familiar and nice. Except for where they didn't.

 

The initial firewall had only partially completed its check before leaving Prowl alone. Thoughts of a potential virus however, were quickly derailed as Prowl turned his focus to locating Jazz's virus protection. Pathways that should have lead somewhere didn't, ending abruptly with half thoughts still on them attempting to execute. Some sectors he could find an alternate route but others were entirely dark. The fear clenching Prowl's spark didn't loosen upon this discovery, but neither did it worsen. At this rate there was one more thing he could try. One last thing before involving a medic.

 

Pulling up a code he'd learned a long time ago, Prowl quickly transferred it to Jazz and activated it. He waited only long enough for the new command to take hold before backing out of Jazz's systems. Designed to assist particular processor conflicts, the code would cause a forced full shutdown. While not the most pleasant situation, it was the solution for a few processor based conditions.

 

One by one Jazz's systems shut down, until suddenly his frame slumped as the command that kept him standing was switched off. Jazz would have fallen from the berth if it weren’t for the arms that caught him. 

 

His frame was silent for a while, not even the sound of his vents until they swirled to life as the restart sequence began.

 

Jazz gave a shudder as the first thing he felt was a processor ache. His audios were the first to online as usual and he knew he was not alone in the room but his voice box hasn't rebooted yet... Ah, it just did, along with his vision as his visor flickered to life, a pale blue hue coloring it. It was then he realized that he was dizzy. And quite disoriented as the mess in his processor started to slowly come to order. 

 

....But what the frag happened? Jazz blinked again, confused and finally found how to move again - he lightly pushed himself from Prowl so he could see him properly and gave him a lost look.  

 

"...Prowl?" Jazz asked uncertain as his head pounded in the background.

                                                             

Acting on instinct, Prowl pulled Jazz against him again in a quick but tight embrace. "Jazz! You're alright? I was so worried…"

 

That didn't help much his confusion as to what in the world is going on. Jazz leaned on Prowl's frame because it was easier this way and asked, "W-what happened?" The room was still swimming.

 

"I'm not entirely certain but you seem to have had a coding conflict that shut down parts of your processor." Now that everything was calming down Prowl let himself start to properly analyze the situation.

 

"Code conflict?" Jazz asked, unsure. His head was pounding. He tried to stand up from the berth for a reason he couldn't even recall but didn't manage to get far as a wave of vertigo hit him and he had to sit back down again.  "I feel dizzy." was all Jazz said. He could feel parts of his processor still onlining.

 

"Your systems might not all be online again yet.  After a forced power down they sometimes reboot out of sequence as some or all react far slower than usual." While he'd never been through one  himself, the Praxian had known a mech in his past who suffered an  illness similar to this situation and had even been witness to a few of  said forced reboots. 

 

"It's probably best if you just power down and try to recharge for the rest of the night. Everything should right itself by morning."

 

Jazz blinked again, trying to clear to slight fog in his processor. It didn't make sense. "But.... Why would I have processor conflict? I don't..." He frowned. He didn't remember this. He was speaking with Prowl and suddenly - nothing. He didn't want to power down until he knew what in the world was going on.  His upset mood caused his headache to grow even stronger. He pressed a hand to his head.

 

"Jazz…" The Praxian didn't know what else to say at that point as he trailed off. An ex-vent that was a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation escaped before he realized it, but that decided him.  Moving carefully, he slowly began to shift their frames so Jazz was lying on the berth. "You need to rest."

 

"I don't want to rest!" Jazz snapped, upset, but allowed the Praxian to shift them, too tired to argue more about it. He had another thing on his foggy processor. "Prowl, I was having a normal conversation with you and then - nothing! A fragging black hole! And I don’t have a single error message to tell me what the frag is going on!"  His exhaustion was making him even more upset, which as a result made his headache grow as well. "You would feel the same way if you were at my place."

 

"If I hadn't seen similar before then I would be just alarmed as you, I assure you." Prowl had to resist an exhausted exvent. He should have known Jazz would continue seeking answers. His mate didn't seem to realize yet that it had been just as frightening for him then as it was to Jazz now. But at least he'd allowed Prowl to move them both because rest really would help. 

 

"I've heard that not many processor based conflicts do generate error reports either. Something related to the mental gaps and data loss."

 

"Then tell me," Jazz said slowly, trying to punctuate each word, "What caused me to have a processor conflict?" Jazz was frowning now, his pale visor making him seem even more upset. "Is it the battle computer? Prowl, if this were anyone else, I would be out the door and to the medics figuring out what the frag just happened. The only reason I am not is because I refuse to risk your project because I believe it has the potential to help others!" There were a couple of sparks around his sensor horns, but they were small and due to the fact that he was overtaxing his processor right now.

 

"Calm down, Jazz," Prowl urged. "This can't be good for you, stressing yourself further…" It didn't seem to have any effect however, so he pulled the other in closer and held their frames close for a while as he thought about what Jazz had asked.

 

"There is a chance it was due to the test we were running, yes. Is that the only potential cause? No. Is it even the most likely?" Here Prowl hesitated, because he really couldn't be sure. "I… don't actually know."

 

The sparks died down now that Prowl was discussing options with him. His mate tended to do that sometimes, talk to him as if he didn't understand or need to understand what was happening. "I don't know." Came Jazz's tired reply. Prowl's field around him was calming him and his frame was demanding rest. 

 

"I'm sorry." He buried his helm in Prowl's neck, "It's my Ops training kicking into full gear, because there is nothing from what I can see and understand in my code. And... I have a killer head ache." He muttered the last part, not noticing the corners of his vision starting to fade into darkness.

 

Prowl carefully shifted so he could stroke Jazz's helm. "We'll figure it out," he assured his mate. "I have enough data we can take a few orn off to make certain you're alright before attempting another simulation. If this happens again then we'll know what caused it," he offered. "How does that sound?"

 

Jazz slowly nodded against him, humming in agreement as the rest of his vision turned to darkness. "Love you." Jazz murmured, systems already half in recharge mode.

 

"I love you too," Prowl murmured as he held his mate close. Jazz was nearly in recharge, finally, and so he let himself follow quickly after.


	4. Invisible cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hints here are subtle. Nothing big happens, yet it shows how the first cracks are starting to appear. Unnoticeable, but still there. And just as dangerous. If you pay attention you will notice them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Happy (belated) New Year! ^^ We start the new year with a new chapter of Battle Computer. Hope you like it.  
> Not beta'd, so pardon for any mistakes.  
> Enjoy!

"Alright," Prowl commented as he shut down the simulator. "That's all for this time. I suppose you can have your present now."

  


Jazz grinned, unplugging and in the meantime sitting up on the berth, "Gimme!"

  


With a soft chuckle, Prowl pulled out a small bundle from his subspace and offered it to his mate. It was more of the same type of rust sticks as before.

  


"I would have given you them sooner, you know, but since we still don't know what caused your incident a few trial runs ago I thought it would be best to avoid a complete repeat. It will minimize the risk that way."

  


Jazz's smile grew as he gazed at the rust sticks with longing. Sweets were so rare in times of war. Actually, the only places where you can find them were in  the  neutral cities.  So, Jazz eagerly took a few and bit  them down, humming at the sweet taste, "I highly doubt," he said with a  mouthful of rust, "that whatever  happened was caused by these delicious things."

  


The sweets-monster in him was purring in  delight . "I can't believe you had these and gave them to me only now!" He protested playfully, biting from his  rust stick before sitting  o n his legs and leaning ove r the small space between the berth and Prowl's desk, lightly pecking his mate on the lips, leaving some rust powder on them. He brought a rust stick to Prowl's lips.

  


"Better safe than sorry," Prowl managed before Jazz claimed his lips in a kiss. When the treat replaced his mate' lips though, then Prowl brought up a servo to gently push Jazz's away with a soft smile. "You know I don't favor those, so keep it. You'll actually enjoy it."

  


"I always feel bad when i eat the sweets and  ya just stare." Jazz said before eating the rust stick. Soon the position of leaning over the berth got uncomfortable so Jazz stood up and walked to the seated  P raxian, getting close. "You've been quite attentive these last few orns... Anyway _I_ can  sweeten your orn?"

  


Prowl offered a light chuckle at that. "I'm not a fan of sweets, as you well know, so you shouldn't feel bad. However, your proposal does sound intriguing…"

  


With the faintest hint of a smirk, Prowl caught Jazz by his hips and slowly pulled him closer until he was was seated on his lap. "And just what did you have in mind, my beautiful mate?"

  


"Whatever you want." Jazz smirked, pressing closer, wrapping his arms around Prowl's neck, brushing a door wing in the mean time. "I am feeling quite generous tonight." 

  


The touch pulled a soft gasp from the Praxian even though the contact wasn't unexpected nor unwanted. "It seems as though we'll have to test just how far your generosity stretches, hm…?"

  


And before Jazz could react, he pulled the other mech in for a nice, long kiss.

* * *

Ratchet returned to the med bay, holding a cube of energon in his hand, sipping from it when he noticed that one of his current patients had a visitor. Before he could hurry away, a loud shout of his name stopped him in his tracks.

  


“Ratchet!” 

  


The medic sighed and turned, “Must you shout?”

  


Jazz was sitting on the berth, a frown that was more of a pout firmly on his place. Prowl was there with him, standing next to the berth, their conversation forgotten when Jazz had called the medic’s name.  

  


“Yes, I must.” Jazz said, “It’s been two orns already! When the frag can I get out of here?” 

  


“Has that crack on your helm healed yet?” Ratchet asked bored, taking another sip from his energon. 

  


“Well, no, but—“

  


“Jazz, your helm got literally cracked open during spec ops training and you want me to let you go just like that?” Ratchet snorted. 

  


“I have this stupid patch on my helm.” Jazz crossed his arms. “It looks ridiculous.” He motioned to the special rubber bandages around his helm.  “They make my audio horns itch.”

  


“The patch stay.” Ratchet said. Obviously this conversation has been  held many times over the course of the last two orns. “Their function is  to make others be more cautious around your helm until the wields get  stronger. Not to mention they will buffer any hit you may suffer. And  knowing you, that is a large possibility.”  

 

“I won’t train before they are healed! Just let me leave before I go  crazy here from boredom and drag you with me!” 

 

Ratchet got annoyed. Can’t mechs see he was just trying to help them? It  was then that he remembered that Prowl was in the room. The Praxian  hadn’t said a single word during this entire exchange. The medic made a  face, energon forgotten in his hand. “If I release him, can I count on  you to make sure he doesn’t slag himself up more?”

 

Prowl's wings twitched slightly, betraying his  surprise at being addressed, but that was the only sign. Even his  response came almost immediately. "Yes sir." The rest was added with a  stolen glance towards Jazz, to see his mate's reaction to the words. "As  well as anyone can make that guarantee about a bot like him at least."

  


Jazz huffed, crossing his arms in a pout.  

  


"Well, guess it's your lucky orn then." Ratchet said, "I was planning on  releasing you maybe tomorrow night, after making sure the wields are  holding strong....but you show no signs on processor damage." Jazz made whooping sound and was about to get off the berth when the  medic stopped him. "Hold yer bolts,  I  wanna change the rubber  bandages   with ticker ones first." He looked at the Praxian. "Prowl, can you come with me?" It wasn't really a question even though it was  ph ra s ed as one.

  


The Praxian gave a small nod and obligingly followed after the medic, waiting until he had stopped before speaking. "May I ask now what this pertains to, sir?"

  


"You're his room-mate." Ratchet stated as he went into a closet with medical supplies, searching for the rubber bandages. "Ops has always been a wild card for me. With them I see all kinds of injuries on good mechs. I wanted to ask you, how is Jazz fairing in their department? Do you think it’s straining him?" Ratchet asked, shuffling in a couple of things.

  


"He has been more exhausted lately, but with the recent Decepticon activity it didn't seem unreasonable." Though his words and outer demeanor were calm, internally the winged mech was fretting. "I assume this isn't the case, though? Is there something we need to worry about?"

  


"I see." Ratchet said as he exited the closet with the rubber bandages. "And no, no reason to worry." Ratchet wanted to add the word ‘yet’, but didn't. No need to give unnecessary information. He  regarded the mech. Prowl was Jazz's room mate. From what he's heard they were friends and on good terms. "I ask because when I did the mandatory   processor scan I noticed how strained his CPU is. Nothing dangerous, but he had a few readings that were in the red… which sadly, is normal for  Ops." The medic sighed.

  


Prowl spark constricted, but he forced himself to continue normally. They both knew Spec Ops was risky, but they'd never considered just how bad it could get. And if something like this was normal then what did that say about the dangerous aspects?  Or could it be...the battle simulator? No, that was absurd. Prowl quickly deleted that trail of thought.

  


"Is there anything we need to watch out for? Any warning signs of something worse that might develop?"

  


Ratchet shook his helm as they headed for Jazz's room. "Not really, no. I have no slagging clue what they do over at Ops, I just fix their messes sometimes. But you are his room mate, I know you'll inform me--  _stop_ scratching over the bands!" Ratchet snapped as they entered the room and Jazz froze. 

  


"Mech, they itch!" Jazz protested.

  


Ratchet ignored him, "Let's go over the rules - no training for two orns. No loud music, no banging your head on anything, no processor straining activity. And no removing the rubber bands without my permission!" Ratchet said, at the same time removing the previous bands and revealing a nicely heaving wield mark right above the visor. “Got it?" He asked Jazz before he looked at the Praxian too, directing the question to him as well.

  


Prowl was still following and nodded along as they returned to Jazz, where he fell completely silent as the medic berated his mate. His full attention was drawn again though when Jazz's wound became visible. Even welded it looked terrible, and his processor began oh so unhelpfully supplying him images of how bad it could have been.

  


An irritated wing flick met the medic's question as the Praxian tried to shove his thoughts aside. It was several nanokliks later before he realized he was expected to answer a question and quickly let out an answer. "Yes, of course sir."

  


Ratchet nodded, finishing applying the band and hiding the scar from view, "Okay, you are free to go. Do I need to repeat the rules again?"

  


"Nope!" Jazz said as he stood up from the bed and headed for the door. "Thanks for everything doc, again!" 

  


"No running." Ratchet spoke as he ignored Jazz, "No transforming. A lot of rest. If you want to get rid of the band sooner, listen to my rules, got it?" 

  


Jazz gave him a two finger salute, just the needed time for Prowl to catch up to him at the door and both exited the med bay after the Praxian gave a polite goodbye to their medic. Outside the medbay Jazz  whooped , making a couple of the passing mechs to chuckle. "Primus, I'm so happy to be out that place!" He turned to smile at Prowl.

  


Prowl returned the smile with a gentle one of his  own. "Come now," he spoke gently. "Let's get you back to our room so you  can rest before you come up with some insane idea to follow instead.  You know what Ratchet will do when he finds out."

  


Jazz made a face as they headed for their room, "Oh, no,  _nooo_ please." He scratched his audio horn, "All  I did in the stupid med bay was recharge. Because there was nothing to do there! I did not just escape Ratchet just so  I can sleep some more." He gave his lover a look, "By the way, did you check your private messages?"

  


Prowl couldn't help chuckling slightly at his lover's antics. "I never said you had to recharge," he explained, "but you do need to take it easy so tonight we are just going to rest."

  


At that question the Praxian's expression turned to mild confusion and he ran access to said system even as he responded. "No, I haven't in a while. Is there something I need to know about?"

  


Jazz perked up over the fact that they had no work over their project. He didn’t feel like staying in their room, though it was the only place where they could act themselves and not risk exposing their relationship (even thought for some reason most won’t even believe that they were  together ). They finally reached their quarters as Jazz answered, "It's fine, Ratchet is overreacting as usual." He went to the berth and sat on it, giving a grin to his lover, "Well then, open your PM's!"

  


Allowing a smile once the door had closed, Prowl quickly located Jazz's latest message to him. Opening it gave him an image file of said mech situated on a medberth, bandaged much as he still was even now, wearing a goofy grin. Scribbled onto the image was a cute message in Jazz's messy script. 'Love ya, Prowler!' His smile grew as he looked back up to his mate.

  


"I love you too, Jazz."

  


Jazz gave him a grin, "Well that is what happens when  yer stuck in the med bay for two orns with nothing to do!" He said  dramatically. "Next time I am so  _not_ sparring with a head ache. It  distracts me too much." He said the last part mostly to himself,  reaching to scratch more of his horn. Maybe he should just take off  the stupid thing, Ratchet won’t know.... Jazz shuddered at the thought of the medic finding out. He scratched  some more.

  


"Oh you exaggerate," Prowl countered expertly. "I'm  sure you could have found  _some_ work to do… And stop  picking at that. You'll make it fall off and then Ratchet will have both  our helms."

  


"Oh come on, can't I take it off?" Jazz said lazily. "He wont find out unless ya tell him." Jazz said, pulling out a special data pad he kept in his subspace that contained all of their  personal pictures, few as they were. They couldn’t exactly leave one photo lying around. The risk of somebody seeing it was too big. He scrolled through the photos of him and prowl, bored.

  


"Didn't he say you needed to keep that on until he removed it?" The challenge was issued as the Praxian followed his mate across the room to remain close. Not because he had been ordered to, but because he cared and was worried personally. "How could he not find out? Or are you going to try and claim you got one of the junior medics to do it for you?" he asked, jokingly.

  


"It  _itches_ ." Jazz complained, both hands coming up to search for a way to take it off, "Come on lover, have a spark! Don't you want to kiss is better?" He could stay in the room without the band and outside wear it, simple as that. "Unless yer scared of Ratchet?" He teased.

  


"Well that's what you get," Prowl shot back playfully, "maybe next time you'll bother to pay more attention to your surroundings." His servos came up to capture his mate's and stop his attempts. "I hope you realize just how illogical that statement is. There is no medical validity to 'kissing it better'." Prowl did, however, give the desired kiss. Right to the top of Jazz's helm.

  


"Pffft," Jazz snorted, "It was a lucky hit on the other mech's part. Won’t happen again." The kiss however made him smile and make his sensor horns grow slightly hotter, as a result making them  more itchy. "I would totally remove the bands if it was on your sensor wings." But Jazz was persistent and kept trying. "It’s easy, you just unclip it at the back..." He motioned for him help. "Be a rule-breaker for me." He grinned at Prowl.

  


"I know you would." Prowl replied with another quick kiss to Jazz's helm. "And so I wouldn't ask," he said with a gentle smile  before sighing.  "Jazz…" Prowl chided, " T here are times and places where it might be acceptable to break rules but that is neither here nor now."

  


"So oo ," Jazz started teasingly, "If you were to turn your back for a moment and I remove it while you ain't looking.... What'cha gonna do?"

  


"Jazz, no." While still playful, a serious note had crept into his tone. "Continuing your own hypothetical situation, what if you dislodge something while recharging later and thereby prolong both your recovery and suffering within that band."

  


Jazz rolled his optics behind the visor. He knew that. But still.  Despite of the itch in his sensor horns he had a bigger itch to settle — the one about breaking the rules. "This is why Ratchet asked you to come with him, isn't it? To tell you to sparkling sit me?" Jazz asked in a resigned tone, "So what did you two talk about anyway ? " He picked at the band. If he couldn't take it off then he could at least scratch.

  


Prowl nodded at the question involving Ratchet.

  


"Nothing unusual," Prowl replied. "He essentially repeated the same things you heard. To watch you and make sure you behave." While not the truth, it also wasn't quite a lie. "He just wanted to stress how important it was by saying it again."

  


Jazz nodded at that. He was going to say something  else when there was a buzz at their door. He winced at the sound. Okay,  now he knew why Ratchet wanted someplace quiet for him.  "Expecting someone?" Jazz asked, hand coming to his helm when the buzzing sound was repeated.

  


"No."

  


Curious, Prowl stood and crossed over to the door to open it. "I suppose we should make certain it's nothing important."

  


Jazz just shrugged sitting on the berth, watching Prowl open the door. There he was greeted by the sight of Blaster.

  


Though he had joined the army to assist in communications, the hostmech had begun his career as a DJ and retained the flair. His love of music and melody had been the firm foundation of his friendship with Jazz and was what sustained that friendship even when circumstances kept the two separated.

  


"Hey mech," the red bot called to his friend before addressing his roommate. "Prowl." His slight nod was acknowledged with one from the winged mech, though he remained silent. Way too anti-social, Blaster thought but dismissed the concern to continue his conversation.

  


"I heard there's gonna be this  wild party down in C- Whoa, what happened to ya?"

  


Jazz gave a grin and stood up from the berth, heading for the door. "Heya Blaster. Don't mind the head band. Just the latest  addition to my looks. All's good." Jazz stopped next to Prowl, "So what’s up?"  

  


The thought of inviting the mech inside did cross  Jazz’s mind. It certainly wont be the first time  Blaster had visited Jazz but rarely was Prowl present. Also, now all that Jazz wanted to do was spend some time with the Praxian. It wasn't exactly easy with him being stuck in the med bay where there were cameras.

  


"If yer sure, mech…" Blaster's tone remained unconvinced but he switched back to his previous topic easily. "An' like  I was sayin', there's this groovy shindig I heard about startin' up  down on C-block soon. Ya know, down by the Engineers' Corridor. Ya up ta  join me in checkin' it out?"

  


Usually Jazz would've said yes right away. But right now wasn't usually even if he was slightly bored.

  


"Aww, sorry mech," Jazz fondled with his rubber band, "But the Hatchet kinda threatened me to avoid any loud music and a lot of other things  I didn't try to remember. But parties were a big no-no in his book. Can we reschedule? After this thing is off my helm we can go anywhere you like!"

  


"Sure thing, my main mech." The head medic's orders were nothing to take lightly and if Jazz was even thinking about listening then the punishment if he didn't had to be terrifying. "Just drop me a buzz when yer free of the Hatchet's clutches and I'll find us a good time."

  


"Sounds like a plan." Jazz gave a smile.

  


The door was closed by Prowl just as Jazz went to lounge back at the berth. He gave  P rowl a funny look when the mech's gaze settled on him. "What'cha thinking about?"

  


"Nothing too much," Prowl replied as he crossed the room too. "You just don't often skip parties so I was expecting to have to intervene."

  


"Oh, trust me, I  _was_ tempted." Jazz told him as a matter of fact with a grin. "But then again, if I have a choice between spending an even ing with you, even if we're just in our room, and to go out to a concert..." Jazz gave him a playful look, "I gotta say, the concert doesn't stand much of a chance."

  


"Oh?" Prowl inquired playfully. 

  


"We have an entire night ahead of us to find out." Jazz said with a smirk as he drew Prowl close.

* * *

Jazz was lounging in their room, checking out some new music Blaster had somehow found, when Prowl arrived. It was halfway into the second shift past his last scheduled one, but he'd been called to sit in as the real-time tactician as a mission he'd planned was run. 

  


Having watched his mate plan for several orn, that didn't surprise Jazz. What did was when the normally stoic mech all but launched himself across the room once the door shut and attacked him with a tight embrace. It was the sort of thing he, himself, might do and so far out of character for his mate that Jazz couldn't help worrying. He barely was able to restrain his  concern to a simple, " W hat happened?"

  


"A complete success," the Praxian all but cheered at him. "We took the base with minimal injuries and no casualties on our side. We even captured most of the 'Cons occupying the area. It was an unmitigated success."

  


"That’s great!" Jazz congratulated him." A nd it's all thanks to you and your brilliant plan, right?"

  


"You helped too, my wonderful, amazing mate." And then Prowl caught his helm and kissed him.

  


Jazz blinked at the sudden kiss but that didn't stop  him from melting in it. When the kiss finally break Jazz grinned at the  Praxian. "Nah, that's all ya. After all, yer a great tactician and now  everyone can see what _I_ can see every orn."

  


"My plan was good, yes," Prowl replied. "But they didn't react in any way I had anticipated so if I had planned alone then the team might have been lost.

  


"But  it didn't. Thanks to you and our little project I had a possible plan for even the most absurd of variables."

  


Jazz just looked over at the desk where the device  stood. It looked /nothing/ like in the beginning when Prowl had first  started  tweaking it. It was hard to imagine how that little piece of  hardware had managed to help so many lives. "Hey, I just donated my processor for it to run its simulations." Jazz  said as he looked back at Prowl. "I still can't believe it actually  /worked/."

  


"It not just worked," Prowl corrected his mate. "It  accurately predicted the situation even though the events were highly  improbable by conventional standards. This is a major achievement."

  


"Are you going to present it to the other tacticians?" Jazz asked, happy with Prowl's mood. "Or will you tinker with it more?"

  


"There is still some fine tuning to do, but it's  power is incredible. And if it could predict that before it happened,  just imagine the possibilities if it were to be utilized as events  played out." Prowl's wings were all but fluttering in excitement by now.  "We could conceivably cut down Megatron and win the war as soon as the  opportunity presented itself. No matter how brief."

  


Jazz blinked at his lover before reaching out to  caress a door wing to calm it down. "Win the war with it? Aren't you  getting a little bit ahead of yerself?" Jazz's tone was playful but he  meant what he said. "What do you say we have the night off and  thoroughly celebrate this success, hmm?"

  


Prowl shuttered his optics at Jazz's first questions. "I suppose you're right," he agreed, posture wilting almost  unnoticeably. What good were even the best plans without the rank to ensure they were carried out after all?

  


"Alright," Prowl accepted his mate's offer, before rising off the berth. "But first I just need to do a couple things. I thought of a few ways to streamline some things earlier and I want to get that done before I forget."

  


"Oh." Jazz stared as his lover sat on the desk. "Will it take long? I have an early shift tomorrow. And you deserve a reward after all your hard work."

  


"No, it shouldn't be long at all. A few kliks perhaps." Already slipping into his work, Prowl's reply came distractedly. "I'll be back with you soon."

  


"Okay, then I'll go get us some energon." Jazz smiled and swiftly left, heading for the rec room. It wasn't much long until  he returned, holding two softly glowing cubes in his hands. Prowl was  still hunched at his desk, doing Primus knows what to that machine. Jazz  settled on the berth, patiently waiting for his mate. 

  


Not long after Jazz got bored and Prowl didn't seem like stopping.  Carefully placing the cubes on the berth he stood up and went behind Prowl and his door-wings, wrapping his arms around the Praxian and  giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Ready?" Jazz murmured, lips barely  lifting from the soft metal.

  


"Almost…" he replied without even looking at Jazz.  "Go relax, it should only be another klik or two. I've just got to  adjust one more thing."

  


Jazz nodded against him and returned to the berth. He  sat there for a while, but the silence in the room was making him  twitchy. Jazz gave a slightly annoyed look at his lover. "Ready?" He  prompted  _again_ . 

  


Prowl murmured something of the sort "Almost." before  Jazz decided to open his own cube and fuel.  When an entire joor had passed and Jazz had run out of pictures to look  at on his pad, the spy laid on the berth, feeling sleepy as his systems  demanded rest. "Prowler." Jazz groaned.

  


"Soon Jazz. I promise. I'm nearly done."

  


Jazz didn't respond. Annoyed he shut down his visor  intent on waiting for Prowl but he didn't even notice when his systems  drifted into recharge, Prowl's forgotten cube next to him.

  


Another half joor had passed before Prowl finally finished. Now content with his latest modifications, he stood and turned to join Jazz.

  


Except his mate was now in recharge. Well, he had mentioned an early shift, Prowl thought as he gave a soft exvent. He then noticed the Energon set aside and picked it up. A few moments of thought and then he moved to the other berth. They never used it but Jazz was already resting and he didn't want to wake him needlessly. It was his own fault so Prowl could somehow manage to recharge alone this once.

  



	5. No Rest for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no vacation in war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while ^^" Hopefully the updates will be more often from now on.

Jazz swirled the energon in his cube, not really drinking it. The rec room was quiet because it was almost time for the next shift to start. His visor was dim as his thoughts were scattered all over the place.  

 

“Hello, Cybertron to Jazz?” Blaster next to him placed a hand on his arm. 

 

The spy resisted the urge to give a tired sigh and forced a smile instead. He had perfected the art of fake smiles and now only one mech knew when it wasn’t real… well, at least he used to know. Prowl no longer paid mind to his smiles. 

 

“Yeah, just thinking about a couple of things.” Jazz smiled at him. 

 

Blaster nodded as he stood up. “Well, ya can tell them to me later after my shift, cuz I gotta run now. Shift’s about to start.” 

 

“Cool.” Jazz said and gave him a two finger salute as the other left with the same gesture. The words rang in Jazz’s head. No… how could he tell Blaster about his secret relationship with Prowl? How can he tell him that things weren’t going exactly okay? More often than not, Jazz woke up with Prowl on the other berth. 

 

After the huge success of that one mission Prowl had steadily landed in the optics of the senior tacticians. Seeing the potential in him, the work had easily grown and Prowl was well on his way to a promotion. Yet, all Jazz could think was that something was different. The Praxian was more…cold? Maybe not cold, but there was this distance between them that didn’t exist before. And when they do shared a berth, there was almost always a battle computer between them. 

 

There was _always_ work to be done, an update to it to be made. All Jazz wanted was a simple night of cuddling. He didn’t even think about interfacing as Prowl was always busy or too tired. He missed the closeness. He missed Prowl. 

 

The pad with the pictures in his subspace felt like it was on fire, burning him. So many beautiful memories locked there. Jazz wanted to open it and just stare with longing at them, but this was the rec room. It was too dangerous. Not to mention, he didn’t want to settle with memories. He had to speak with Prowl about this. But every time he tried the other shifted the subject. Or was busy with the battle computer.

 

Jazz felt as if every conversation they had was about that stupid battle computer. So if Jazz was staying in the rec room when it was nearly empty, just so he didn’t have to go back to his quarters and deal with that machine, then so be it. He hated the fact that he had to find reasons to avoid his mate. Jazz just hoped Prowl perfected it soon so that things could go back to normal again.

 

His thoughts got scattered when the doors to the rec room opened and inside entered Prowl. Jazz resisted the urge to go over and hug him. Had the other come searching for him? Maybe Prowl had as well felt the change between them? Jazz waited at his seat with hope.

 

Prowl didn't speak until he was nearly at Jazz's table and when he did the relief was palpable in his tone. "There you are, Jazz. I've been searching everywhere for you."

 

"You have?" Jazz asked, happy like a lost sparkling when it found its creator. "Well I'm here. You came to join me for a cube of energon?" Jazz was already standing from his seat to go get the Praxian a cube.

 

Prowl's next words stalled in his vocalizer as he processed the question. It was a delay, yes, but he hadn't collected his ration yet this orn. "I suppose Energon can't hurt but that's not why I was seeking you out."

 

"No?" Jazz asked curious as he headed for the cube and returned not long after, handing it to Prowl.

 

"Yes," the Praxian replied as he accepted the cube.  "However it's nothing we can discuss here." Though nearly empty presently, the Rec Room was a common area and stray bots wandered in without warning all the time. "We should return to our room."

 

Jazz hesitated at that. He didn't want to go back to their room, not yet at least.  "Let's just stay here for a little while?  Is the matter urgent?"

 

"I suppose not…" He had already turned in the mission plan and it was only a hypothetical situation anyway (or at least he hoped it was because a bot had to be suicidal to even try and incredibly skilled to succeed.) Still, the plans had been built on short notice and he wanted to test his ideas against what his simulator could devise. Perhaps there was a better way. Or even just a variable he hadn't considered yet.

 

Slowly, Prowl took a seat across from Jazz. It wouldn't do to get caught acting too cuddly in public after all. Switching topics, his next words were an attempt at small talk. "Is this where you've been spending your time lately? I've rarely seen you the past couple orns."

 

Whatever Jazz had expected Prowl to say, that had not been it. Unexpected... hurt came and Jazz found it hard not to snap something back. Looking down at his half full cube he pulled it close to himself, retreating a bit. "Yes, well, you have been busy with the sparkling." Jazz said, voice slightly cooler as he lifted his gaze to regard Prowl. "Soo...yeah."

Prowl didn't even bother to correct him on calling their project a sparkling. "That doesn't mean you need to avoid the room. You know full well I can work just fine with you there."

For some reason the conversation was upsetting Jazz more. He thought that Prowl's presence would make him feel better but it was just making everything worse. Even now, all they talked about was that stupid machine. So, Jazz tried a different tactic. "I was thinking..." he said, disregarding Prowl's words, "Maybe we can 'play' a little tonight?" To anyone listening in, it would seem like a simple request for a board game, only it wasn't. "It has been a while." Jazz went on. "And...I do feel cold at night _."  With you on the other berth_ , Jazz didn't voice out.

"I suppose it has," Prowl agreed. Certainly not in the past couple decaorn. As to the other issue, "I told you already that I don't want to disturb you once you're resting. I know how difficult it can be for you to return to recharge if something wakes you."

It was getting difficult to stay angry at him.  "Yeah..." Jazz agreed. Ops always left its mark on its spies. "But I don’t mind." He said. If it was him, then he didn't mind one bit. He wanted to hug him. "Let's go back to the room then?" Maybe from tonight, things will be more different.

"Alright." Prowl was happy to agree because it got them one step closer to where he wanted them to be. Now he just had to convince Jazz to run one quick simulation before they got distracted.  "Lead the way."

Jazz smiled and did just that. Once both were safely hidden in their room Jazz took Prowl's hand, longing to touch him and for some form of physical contact with the mech, leading him to the berth.

Prowl pressed a searing kiss onto his mate's lips as he guided him down onto the berth, only breaking it after a klik.  "Before we get too distracted, there is a quick test I want to run. It's just a single set of variables so it shouldn't take long, then we can ’play’ all night long."

"Now?" Jazz asked, disappointment quickly giving in to annoyance. "Can't we do it after? Or maybe in the morning?" Jazz lifted a hand to caress Prowl's cheek.

"You know you never wake up any earlier than you absolutely need to for a shift," Prowl countered. "And it seems like a few overloads are the perfect way to put you into recharge so before is the best time."

If there was one thing Jazz knew well, it was that when Prowl used logic to back up his statement nothing in the universe could make him change his mind. Either Jazz had to compromise or sleep alone, again.  And he was tired of sleeping alone. "...Fine." Jazz agreed slowly. "But it better be quick!"

Prowl was already halfway back after grabbing the simulator before he responded, immediately after Jazz. "Just one set of variables, I promise. It shouldn't take more than a few kliks."

"You promised that the last 76 times." Jazz replied quietly even as he opened his neck port for Prowl to plug in the device and start the simulation.

"I have not," Prowl replied as he positioned everything just right. "And it really will, I promise."

Leaning over, he pressed another, gentle, kiss to his mate's lips. "Ready?"

"As always." Jazz said, the kiss making it all better. But still.  And so the program started.

The simulation was theoretically simple. A basic infiltration mission. Into one of the most heavily guarded Decepticon bases. Several agents had been lost already to gain what little data the Autobots now had on the security features. Naturally, the first simulations were failures, often catastrophic. Prowl had expected as much from his own calculations, although the numbers seemed more bleak than he remembered turning in.

As he mulled over that, the computer continued to run in search of a successful mission. It was several kliks later when the Praxian was pleasantly startled by the results. There was a way to succeed. Although as he looked over the list of necessary and advisable skills, he knew there was still no practical way to put such a plan into motion. With a soft exvent of frustration, he turned his attention back to his mate to let him know they were done testing for now.

Except Jazz had fallen into recharge. Surprised, Prowl realized quickly that he didn't know when that had happened and thus couldn't be certain any of the results were accurate. Although… The simulations had continued with Jazz recharging so clearly that wasn't much hindrance. Now he needed to test this.

He quickly stood and went to collect a datapad with previous results on it. If recharging didn't affect the process then the results should be the same. It was a simple enough test and then he would recharge too.

* * *

It was early morning when Prowl finally disconnected the simulator from Jazz. The first test had given back slightly lower success rates than it had originally so he'd had to try another set of variables. That one had come out almost identical to the first time. It had taken several more retests before he had finally come to the conclusion that re-entering the same data must not guarantee the same results. It was the first time he had tried the same data a second time so it shouldn't have been a surprise it behaved in a way he didn't expect. He had been updating the machine in the intervening time after all.

Once he'd disconnected the device from Jazz, he stood and returned it to the not-quite-hiding spot it belonged in. Not specifically hidden but put of sight enough that someone had to be snooping to run across it. Then he turned back to the berth, debating if he should risk waking Jazz or simply recharge in the other as was becoming usual.

Jazz didn't know what woke him, especially when he was feeling so tired still. His visor flickered to a dim light as he tried to focus on the silhouette in front of him. "Prowl?" Jazz asked sleepily.

Was it time for Jazz to wake already? Did he have an early shift? Prowl couldn't remember. He hadn't seen much of him lately either so tracking his schedule was no easy task.

"Morning Jazz." The response was softly spoken as he usually would when they first woke up. "You sound like you're still in recharge."

"Mm'm tiredmm." Jazz mostly muttered it in the pillow. Odd, according to his system readings he still required at least 5 more joors of recharge.  Jazz didn't think much of that as he struggled to stay awake. "Why're ya still up?" He asked instead.

"I got distracted with some old data once you slipped offline." It was an honest answer, although that wording certainly made it sound different than it was. "However, it seems my sense of time has vanished in between all the extra work I've been doing," Prowl offered as a joke. "So as long as you don't need to be on duty soon, I suggest we curl up together to get some rest."

"Your sense of time has been off for quite a while now." Jazz allowed himself to say, too tired to actually think about his words. But the prospect of curling up with Prowl made him shift on the berth, making room on the berth for the Praxian. "Come'ere."

Prowl willingly did so, letting Jazz's words roll right past him. He was tired too, now that he let himself notice, and they hadn't been able to recharge together in far too long and he missed it as much as Jazz did. It took no time at all for him to arrange himself on the berth so they could comfortably cuddle.

Pulling Jazz just a bit closer with a makeshift hug, Prowl confessed to his mate, "I love you so much. More than anything."

Jazz pressed close, visor flickering off as he pulled one of Prowl's servos to his chest, right above his spark. "It'll always belong to you, so don't hurt it, okay?" He mumbled before he finally drifted off to sleep.

"That would never be my intention," Prowl promised. "You have my spark as well, and always will."

* * *

Jazz was nibbling on a rust stick as he flipped through some of their pictures on his personal data pad, lounging on the berth. The rust stick was delicious, with little copper shavings on it.  Prowl only gave him the copper ones when he wanted a longer session. It always helped keep him in better spirits when eating something sweet, as amusing as that sounded. 

 

Music was playing in his audios to distract him from the program that was running in the back of his processor. By now, he had gotten so used to these simulations that he hardly noticed when they were running.  The processor conflicts luckily were not that often, but when they came, they were stronger. Even now he had a slight head ache but it was nowhere near some of the ones he got. 

 

Jazz lifted his gaze from a picture of him and Prowl smiling to look at said Praxian intently observing the results on his pad. Jazz didn’t dare say it, but his mate was becoming obsessed with their pet project.  Of course, he was saving so many lives with it and Jazz couldn’t be more proud with the Praxian. And it wasn’t just him noticing Prowl’s potential. 

 

There was buzzing about him becoming the youngest Junior Officer in Tactical. But the selfish part of Jazz was rebelling. If Prowl wasn’t on shift, he was with the device. And suddenly Jazz felt a little (and maybe not so little) left out. Which is why he had come up with /this/ idea.

 

“So,” Jazz said to his mate, pulling out a calendar on the data pad. “We both will get a leave next week. And the battles have been quiet for a while…” He looked at Prowl hopefully, “We won’t get a better window than this one to visit Polyhex.” Jazz was sure that a little time to themselves, away from the war and that stupid device would help them a lot. This is what they needed.

 

Prowl paused in his reading but didn't look up from the datapad for almost a klik. "That does sound nice," he agreed easily.  "But I can't."

 

Jazz tilted his head, confused. "But we're both free next week with this leave. And we did plan on visiting Polyhex."

 

"Technically free, yes," Prowl corrected his mate, “but I've been advised to remain around. There are some big plans that might be put into motion soon, since the Decepticons are being less troublesome lately. I'm actually surprised you haven't heard because they seem the sort of thing where Ops would be best utilized."

 

Jazz gave a small frown. "Yeah, I know about Ops. But it’s a free week that comes almost /never/ in these times. The war and the plans and Ops will be here when we get back. I'm sure the Officers at tactical will understand if their star protégé wants a week off."

 

"And what if they don't?" The question held a sharper edge than he'd meant to use and the Praxian forcibly wilted his posture, even pulling his wings down. The point was not to seem aggressive, but this was important. He couldn't rise through the ranks if he seemed to be slacking off. And he had more than enough to do already that wasn't work based and therefore would seem to be wasted time to his superiors. "I just can't risk it."

 

Jazz sat on the berth to look at Prowl better, his data pad turning off next to him. "But the whole point of me going to Polyhex was so that I can show you... Okay, maybe a week is too much time. What about two orns? It's just two orns..." Couldn’t Prowl see that Jazz just wanted to spend some time with him away from this war? To show him his home?

 

"And what happens if my superior officers come looking for me during those two orn?" A nervous flick of his wings was the only real sign of emotion now. "I just... I can't risk it. I'm sorry, Jazz."

 

Jazz knew Prowl's words held merit. But this was the point where it showed how different views of the world both of them had. Prowl wanted to become a Master Tactician while Jazz.... Jazz really didn't think too much about his military career because it was never his dream. He was a musician before the war for Primus' sake.

 

"It's... Okay. I understand." Jazz said, trying to convince himself more than Prowl. "Maybe some orn you can join me." He gave a light smile. "I'll just go alone. Maybe I can ask Blaster too, he should also have a week free. He didn't use up his orns off last time."

 

He let his wings drop just barely noticeably at the mention of Blaster. "I suppose you could," Prowl relented slowly, his tone carefully neutral. "Someone probably does need to go along and keep you out of trouble…"

 

Jazz gave Prowl an amused look, "Who, Blaster?" He snickered, "Knowing him, we'll end up in more trouble than just the two of us. You'll be okay without me for a week with that thing, right?"  Jazz motioned at the prototype.

 

"There are a few physical adjustments I've been considering that I can do now with some free time." The answer flowed out easily before he'd fully processed Jazz's question. When he did though, he quickly followed up with, "wait. What happened to two orn?  Why is it back to a week now?"

 

Jazz blinked at him. "Well, it was gonna be two orn if I was with you. Since we gotta hurry and all. But since we're not pressed by time with Blaster, if he agrees i figured i go back to my original plan of one week." Jazz explained easy.

 

"I see…" Prowl replied slowly. In the nanokliks before he spoke again his posture drooped and his wings, which had gone back in surprise, now fell once more. "I hadn't realized you could so easily spend so much time away from me."

 

Jazz froze, immediately feeling bad. "I don't! I mean--" he struggled for words, optics traveling over the Praxians lowered door-wings, spark constricting. "I'm not thrilled about this situation. I would have loved it a million times more if I got to spend it with you..." He said, looking away, feeling guilty for some reason.

 

"It's not as though I'm enjoying the situation either." The words were open and honest. "I was hoping to make the best of it and spend as much time as possible with you. I hadn't been able to mention it yet, but I was considering perhaps even exploring other parts of Iacon… I should think that would keep me close enough if an officer asked to show up." A soft exvent slipped from him. "But no, I guess that was a ridiculous idea."

 

Jazz stared at him, "Iacon?" He asked as he shifted on the berth, not able to stand still but was still mindful of the cable connecting him to the devise. It wasn't exactly home. But he would be able to spend time with Prowl and still relax in his time off.  Still, he had been anticipating visiting Polyhex for so long.... But his desire to spend time with his mate was greater. "No, it's not ridiculous...." His spark was conflicted but time alone with prowl was more precious. „It’s actually a great compromise. You think it's possible?" Jazz asked hopeful and hoped Prowl said yes.

 

"I can make no promises," Prowl replied cautiously, “and I certainly won't guarantee it, but it does not seem unreasonable to me. I do hope it is actually a feasibility."

 

Jazz frowned thoughtfully at that. Prowl's offer wasn’t even 100% certain. "I don't know...." He said looking away. "Can you promise to really try for us to go to Iacon at least? I don't wanna take time off just to spend it locked in the room..."

 

"I promise to make every effort to get us out to see Iacon." He truly meant it too. They had been putting a lot of time and effort into their project and Jazz deserved a treat for being so helpful. An orn of exploring the city couldn't hurt anything, right?

"If you have any credits saved up maybe we can even find little souvenirs to commemorate the event," Prowl offered with a slight smile, to show he really had given it thought. "Nothing too large or garish can be displayed in our room though."

 

Jazz perked up at that and gave a snicker at the last comment. "Yeah, i have some saved up. And here I had the idea to buy something big and sparkly."  He joked. Okay, screw it, he was going to spend time with Prowl. He wanted to visit Polyhex still, but maybe later when Prowl is more stable in his work they can visit it, together.  "Okay, so... I'll get the week off and we can visit Iacon for an orn or two during it?" He asked to make sure this was indeed the plan.

 

"Yes Jazz," Prowl replied with a playfully annoyed tone. Jazz's cheer had spread to him and his frame showed it, once again back to his usual posture but with his wings swept up and settled in a happy tilt. His next comment was a continuation of teasing his mate.  "But if you try to or do buy anything too ridiculous then the trip is over."

 

"Deal!" Jazz chuckled and just in time as the program running by the device was done. 

Things might turn out wonderful after all.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Rest For The Wicked by Lykke Li inspired the title of this chapter.


	6. Lover's spat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bumpy road for Prowl and Jazz.

Jazz couldn’t have been more proud with his lover. Prowl had not only excelled in the Tactical department, but had also become one of the youngest junior tacticians this army has ever seen. The potential he carried was clear to every officer he spoke with, his dedication and motivation outstanding.

 

The work on their project was going smoothly, and more and more often they were able to see the clear results from it. The casualties lowered on the plans it was used. It was even able to predict a possible future battle near Yuss based on the data it was fed and the Autobots were on the alert in their base.

 

The sudden attack from the Decepticons there was quickly handled with minimal casualties, something that would’ve never happened without the help of the prototype.

 

At the news Jazz had been ecstatic. For Prowl it only served to fuel his desire to perfect it. After every positive outcome he was able to see all the endless possibilities it possessed. But most importantly…

 

… the tragedy with Praxus will never be repeated. Not with this device. Prowl would make sure of it.

 

So, a couple of orns after his promotion Jazz had opted to celebrate this development. He would’ve celebrated it directly after the promotion, but he had one Pit of a head-ache during  their last simulation. The pain then was one thing – the vertigo was totally different and new. He couldn’t walk straight the entire orn and needed to skip his shift then. He was lucky Blaster had an orn off and was able to cover for him. Jazz was already planning ways to repay the mech.

 

But right now he had other things on his mind.

 

There was a  lovely table cover he had found from Wheeljack (he didn’t want to ask from where the mech had it) that he had placed over Prowl’s work station. There he had neatly arranged two cubes of well refined energon he had been saving for a special occasion and this certainly was one. His data pad with their pictures stood there – Jazz was planning to add more pictures tonight to it. A lot more.

 

In order to arrange the desk like that, he had to put away the prototype. It was safely hidden in their room. Also, he figured Prowl could survive one orn without the damn thing. Plus, Jazz kept telling him he was getting obsessed with it. Which sadly was not an exaggeration. Prowl usually wasn’t an overly social mech. But before he at least visited the rec room and communicated with other mechs. Now?

 

Jazz couldn’t remember the last time his lover had a casual, normal conversation with someone else, other than himself (and even _that_ was getting scarce, because most of their talks resulted around the device).

 

So this would be a pleasant break from everything. Even great minds needed to rest, Jazz had tried to joke with Prowl once.

 

He heard the door opening and looked up from his berth, grinning at his lover. “Hey Prowler.”

 

It had been a long orn for the Praxian, after being woken early by a message from his commanding officer requesting all tactical staff in to assist in planning a major assault. That had run halfway into his scheduled shift and resulted in him staying later to complete all his work. All he wanted was a chance to get back to his room but before he could leave another mech had asked for help factoring for an unusual variable and Prowl found himself staying in the tactical suite even longer. And now, when he finally got to his quarters, even this wasn't going normally.

 

"Jazz," he answered. "What's all this?"

 

"Well," Jazz gave him a smile as he stood up from the berth, "We didn't really celebrate your new promotion. Plus, you've been far too busy lately with that project of yours. I figured a night to just relax and be normal will be good for us both." Not to mention Jazz was still disappointed with their short visit to Iacon. They hadn't stayed there more than an _orn_. "I got us the good stuff." Jazz said smugly because it was not easy to acquire this special energon anymore. He motioned at the desk, "You like?"

 

"It's unexpected," the Praxian replied as he looked around again. Slowly he stepped over to the desk and picked up one of the cubes, swishing it slightly. It really was good quality. His pleasant surprise at just how good showed through as he spoke again. "Where did you manage to get this?"

 

Pleased by his lover's reaction Jazz went next to him as he took the next cube. "C'mon, your promotion was clear to me from miles away. It was just a matter of time." He grinned. "I was prepared a long time ago, just waiting for the right moment."

 

"I see…" Prowl's acceptance of that reasoning was hesitant but he decided it was a good enough answer. Lifting his cube towards Jazz, he made a pitiful attempt at a toast. "Cheers then?"

 

"Cheers, lover." Jazz clanged their cubes carefully and then taking a sip from the energon. It was delicious, smooth and even, warming up nicely his fuel tank. Jazz, after a short debate with himself, decided to press close to Prowl, enjoying his warmth and sent. "So, you like the energon?"

 

Prowl shifted as Jazz moved closer, but only to accommodate him while not spilling his Energon. His own first sip went down slowly, savored in a way few things could be anymore. "It is wonderful," he agreed. "Almost as much as you are."

 

A slight chuckle escaped him. "And if this is how you celebrate my achieving such a low rank, I'm quite curious how you would celebrate were I to obtain a meaningful rank."

 

"Oh," Jazz purred next to him, "You will just have to obtains said ranks and see what I have planned for each and everyone of them." He lifted the hand that wasn't holding the energon cube to trace Prowl's arm, up to his neck and reach the Praxian's soft cheek, which he caressed. Jazz hadn't realized how much he missed Prowl's contact until he was right next to him. "Well, this is your orn. How do ya wish to celebrate it?"

 

"I must admit," Prowl began, "I hadn't anticipated this so I have no plans for this scenario." His own free arm moved to pull his mate a little bit closer. "So perhaps tonight, since you're acting a little more me, I'll try and act a little more like you and just trust in your plans."

 

"Well then..." Jazz murmured as he leaned close, lips hovering above Prowl's as a smile grew, "You won't be disappointed." He breathed before he pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. Jazz nearly melted against his mate as he always did when they kissed. Taking Prowl's servo into his own, Jazz brought it to his lips before he slowly led his lover to the berth. "I have a few ideas..."

 

* * *

 

It was a few weeks later when the visored mech found himself staring blankly at the wall ahead of him in the quiet room when a voice snapped him out it.

“Jazz? Just out of curiosity, how long do ya plan to avoid yer room?” Blaster asked as he was getting ready for his shift.

 

Jazz had to force out a cheer he was far from feeling as he looked at the other. “Why? Tired of me already?” He grinned.

 

“Nah, it’s not that I don’t enjoy your company. I’m just curious what you did, or what Prowl did, for you to avoid your room like that for two orns. It’s not like you.” Blaster asked.

 

“Meh, it’s a long story and it’s not my right to tell it, y’know?” Jazz explained. “Let’s just say that both of us crossed a couple of lines and said and did some things that we shouldn’t have.”

 

“Well, I can’t image it’s easy living with Prowl.” Blaster said. “I still can’t believe you put up with him for so long.”

 

“Ah, he’s actually not that bad, Blaster.” Jazz spoke about his lover.

 

Blaster shrugged, “Well, if one orn you do change your mind, I’m first in line for your room-mate, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Then to lighten the mood, Jazz added, “But that would be so bad for the rest of crew.”

 

“Why?” Blaster looked at him.

 

“The two of us, in one room? The music will be glass-shattering.”

 

Blaster chuckled. “It would be awesome! But now I gotta run. Are ya gonna hide out here the entire orn again, or…?”

 

Jazz shrugged. “I might actually go back to my quarters. Gotta face Prowler sooner or later.”

 

“’Prowler?’ That’s a funny nickname.” Blaster snickered. “Well, I guess it’s better than ‘Prowlie’. Uhg.”

 

“Yeah, he allows me grudgingly only this one. Said it’s the lesser of two evils.” Jazz chuckled with him even if he didn’t feel like laughing at all.

 

“Well, whatever ya did, I’m sure he’ll get over it. I’m sooo late now. We’ll chat later?” Blaster was already opening the door.

 

“Sure.” Jazz gave him a small wave. “Have a good orn, Blaster.”

 

The comms-mech grinned, gave him a wink and was out, leaving Jazz alone. He allowed himself to sag and rub his face. None of this was okay. The argument with Prowl had been one of the most severe, and Jazz didn’t dare say most severe they had ever had. But what was he supposed to do? When he barely saw Prowl’s face, when all they did now were those stupid simulations, with his constant head-aches and crashes that Jazz was almost certain now were connected with the device… Not to mention he was having a bad orn then and Prowl’s only concern seemed to be the stupid battle computer…and when the headache had started and Jazz had asked for him to stop and Prowl had wanted them to continue…

 

Jazz just _snapped_.

 

Literally. He had pulled out the cable connecting him to the machine before properly saving all data, which Jazz now knew wasn’t a smart move because it only made his headache ten times worse, as if someone had smashed a hammer against his helm. Which only had seemed to fuel his anger, because the next moment he had thrown the device against the wall, breaking it into several pieces. It was then that rational thought had returned and Jazz had realized what he had done. With a quiet sorry, he had run like a coward.

 

And now here he was, hiding in Blaster’s room.

 

Jazz bit his lip. He didn’t want to comm Prowl. If he was to apologize, he had to do it in person. But a huge part of Jazz was rebelling against the idea – Prowl hadn’t cared that he was in pain. But Jazz had crossed the line…both had crossed it.

 

With a sign, Jazz stood up from the berth and headed for the door. In the corridor were no mechs because the first shift had already started so Jazz was uninterrupted when he reached their door. Outside, he hesitated. Would Prowl even want him back? But this was just a stupid battle computer! It shouldn’t be the reason for them to divide… Still, why did Jazz fear Prowl might chose _it_ over him? It was paranoia, Jazz knew.

 

So he gathered what courage he still had left and typed in the combination of their door and entered their quarters. He should’ve know where he’ll find Prowl – hunched on his desk, working on the project. With his back to Jazz, there was no way his door-wings hadn’t picked up his entry. So Jazz waited, wanting to see how Prowl will react to his presence before attempting a conversation.

 

Prowl was, and had long since been, deeply lost in his work. Although the most damage had occurred to the outer casing, his modded tactical computer had slightly fallen apart. In the process of repairing it, however, he was fairly certain that he'd found several unnecessary parts and was thus removing them. As engrossing a task as that was, while he'd noticed Jazz's entry he didn't actually remember to acknowledge the other for several kliks.

 

And when he finally did speak, it was just a simple, "Jazz."

 

"Prowl..." Jazz shifted on his pedes, watching the other's back. Prowl still hadn't turned to look at him. "Um, can I come in?"

 

"You hardly need the invitation," he answered before noticing a piece still out of place. He had to fix that quickly and it took his entire attention for several nano kliks before he finished. "This is your room as well."

 

"...Right." Jazz said, looking at his unnervingly calm mate. Slowly, he went to the berth next to the desk Prowl was working on and sat on it, watching the other tinker with the device. "Is it working?" He asked hesitantly.

 

"It still takes power but I don't know whether it's functioning properly or not." His main focus was still on his project, and would remain there until he could be certain it was working correctly. "I have yet to test it."

 

' _Test_...' The word rang in Jazz's helm as he bit his lip. "Look, I didn't mean... it _hurt_ and-and I wanted it to stop..." But Prowl was still refusing to look at him. Jazz reached with his hand to touch Prowl's nearest door-wing gently, trying to get his attention. "Prowl."

 

At the touch, he finally looked over at Jazz. "What it is? I am busy working."

 

"I want to say properly that I am sorry for what happened and you wont even look at me." Jazz said, pulling his hand back. "I never meant to...snap like that. But it really did hurt and you seemed like you didn't care. And _that_ hurt me more." Which lead to the entire fiasco of Jazz spending the last two nights over at Blasters. He missed his berth. He missed Prowl, now more than ever.

 

"I was attempting to track the source," Prowl explained after a moment. "If I could determine what had caused you pain I could focus on correcting it for the future. I would have told you but the added stimuli of me speaking more might have hurt you worse."

 

"Couldn't you have warned me before we started? Or...or something?" Jazz sighed, rubbing the back of his helm, looking at his side. "Did ya at least find the source of the pain?"

 

"I didn't know it was a possibility until it had happened," Prowl explained. "I believe I had nearly located the source but that is a moot point now. I've had to make several modifications so it is unlikely that the issue will occur in the exact same way again."

 

"Are you're saying you didn't fix it? And it can happen again?" Jazz asked slowly.

 

"Now that it has happened we know the possibility exists. I won't deceive you by saying it never could again, even after fixing it once. There could be numerous causes or variables that I haven't considered yet."

 

"Oh." Jazz looked at the device prowl was working on, the dislike he had started to heel towards it only growing. "...so all the times i had felt sick, the headaches and crashes...they were caused by it? Because Prowl, the time consists with whenever I am plugged in with it."

 

That made Prowl pause for a moment to consider Jazz's words. "That seems improbable but I suppose there's a chance… It could be there's a strain on your processor because it doesn't have the specs to match any more but I won't be able to know for sure unless I witness it occurring."

 

Jazz nodded at that and then looked away. "I thought you would be mad at me...for breaking it. But you fixed it, right? It seems fixed..."

 

"I am upset," the Praxian admitted, "but anger solves nothing and you did apologize so there's nothing else but to move on."

 

His gaze followed Jazz's to the device. It looked much the same outwardly, save for the patches cracks where the casing had splintered or shattered. Internally though, it was quite different from before. What had once been the outer wall was now a mere casing as he'd found some parts that were useless or needlessly redundant to remove. A few additional adjustments then cemented the core in place and assured that if a repeat of before happened once more his hard work wouldn't be ruined again.

 

"I've done what I can, but again, I won't know how 'fixed' it is without testing." Prowl's focus now shifted back to Jazz, his tone neutral as he moved to a question. "Are you going to remain for that or will I be doing it myself?"

 

"I..." Jazz started but stopped himself. He needed clarification first. "...test it on who? On yourself or on me...?"

 

"I have enough data to test if it still functions correctly using myself. However, in order to determine the potential cause of your helmaches would naturally require your assistance."

 

"Prowl, I can't believe I am telling you this, but please speak clearly, don't do word games with me. So you need me to find what causes these headaches?" Jazz asked, his instincts telling him to flee and refuse any and all contact with the device but his spark was screaming at him to stay with Prowl.

 

"I don't understand what you find unclear," he answered, confused now himself. "You are the one experiencing pain so of course you need to be here to find the solution. Or do you just want a simple 'yes?'"

 

"Yes...a just simple yes." Jazz looked at him. "And when you test it on me you'll be able to determine the source of it?"

 

"That is my goal," he replied, opting to continue giving Jazz his desired short answers.

 

"You wanna test it now?" Jazz asked hesitantly since Prowl didn't say anything else.

 

"That would be optimal. Unless you need to be somewhere else," Prowl questioned. "I don't know which shift you're on now."

 

"I don't need to be anywhere." Jazz answered slowly, tensing a little. "If you test it now, will it hurt again...?"

 

"I don't know." The reply was given uneasily. He didn't like a lack of knowledge but he wasn't going to willfully lie. "You didn't mention pain in all previous attempts so there may be none this time. If there is however, I'll be looking for the source to eliminate it for the future."

 

“Prowl, this is the reason we had this fight in the first place. I don’t want us to argue over a stupid machine again.” Jazz rubbed his arm, “Shouldn’t we…I don’t know, talk more or something?”

 

"I don't understand what more there is to talk about. I don't know the future and everything you're concerned over is reliant on factors neither of us know."

 

It wasn't exactly what Jazz wanted to hear but then again this was Prowl. And he was answering him in a Prowl-like fashion.

 

"Just promise me you'll abort the program if it starts hurting?"

 

"If it gets to the level it was at before, tell me and I'll stop it," Prowl offered. "But I can't find what's causing you pain if you're not in any pain."

 

"So I have to be in pain." Jazz concluded.He looked away, dejected. "I don't know, Prowler. I wanna help ya. I promised ya that from the start but..." He was scared. He trusted Prowl, with his life. But he couldn't help what his instincts were telling him.

 

"You only need to be in pain if we need to find what causes you pain. That issue might already be resolved during the last bout of changes." Prowl reached out and slowly guided Jazz to look to him again. "I'm not going to intentionally make it hurt if it doesn't."

 

"Okay... okay I trust you." And Jazz hoped Prowl could feel how much he put into those words as he touched the Praxian's hand. "I'll help you with the simulations."

 

"Alright," Prowl accepted, keeping his hand against Jazz's cheek for a moment longer before turning to collect the simulator. "We may as well get started immediately."

 

Jazz nodded at that. He watched Prowl add the variables or whatever he did to the battle computer before he uncoiled the cable that would connect with Jazz. He turned to Jazz to plug it in but the visored mech pulled back in the last moment on the berth, drawing his knees closer as looked at Prowl. "Sorry, just - here, I'll do it." Jazz said, forcing himself to get close to Prowl again and taking the cord, before hesitantly plugging it into his neck port. He activated the program. "Ready."

 

Prowl waited on Jazz to get settled before moving in to take a seat and plug in as well. He didn't have too long to wait before the simulation was done. He had purposely kept this trial simple, but he hadn't thought it would be that fast. Curious, he fed some new data into the device to try another test. This one came back quickly as well.

 

Jazz shifted as Prowl started to send data for another test and he paused to mention it. "The first trial is complete already," he explained. "I'd like to try another since we have time."

Jazz agreed, after only slight hesitation. It hadn't hurt but he still didn't like it. It was for Prowl though, so he had to agree. And once he did, Prowl started up another simulation. This one was noticeably more complex just from the beginning and would almost certainly take longer to finish. But it wasn't as though they didn't have the time.

 

Jazz hadn’t noticed when he had dozed off curled next to the sitting Praxian. He and Prowl were absently talking about nothing in particular and Jazz was enjoying the other close to him, even if it meant to have the battle computer between them. But at one point he stirred because an alert for fuel popped at his HUD.

 

Jazz blinked, visor flickering as he looked over the data streaming in front of him. “You started another simulation while I was asleep?” Jazz asked, shifting on the berth. “That makes four so far.”

 

“Yes. But you were resting and I didn’t want to wake you.” Prowl explained, attention more focused on the simulation, but he did reach with a hand to absently rub a sensor horn.

 

“I don’t feel very rested.” Jazz muttered even as he shifted closer to the hand caressing him. Soon his engine was softly purring. The alert for fuel popped up again, and Prowl was also able to see it because he was still connected and monitoring Jazz’s systems.

 

“I’m going to go to the rec room to get us some fuel.” Prowl explained as he finally looked at Jazz. “I’ll let the program download on the pad and I’ll look it over when I get back.”

 

“You’re gonna leave me alone with the program?” Jazz asked uncertain.

 

“Only for a short while.” Prowl said, “Your fuel levels have dropped to 34%. And the simulation is still not finished.”

 

“Right…” Jazz said reluctantly. Prowl set a couple of command on the data pad as he set it aside so Jazz wouldn’t knock it over before he turned to his lover. “Try to go back into recharge.” He shifted Jazz to lay back down on the berth and secured the covers over him. “I’ll be back soon.” Prowl said and gave his lover a quick kiss to the lips before he hurried to go to the rec room.

 

Alone in the room, with the simulator running Jazz just shifted under the covers, staring blankly at nothing. It was then that he remembered Blaster. He had to tell him he was back in his room. When the comms-mech was able to answer his call Jazz had almost given up because he knew the other was still on his shift.

 

::Yo, Jazzmeister. Got bored in the room?:: Blaster’s voice chuckled, making Jazz smile too.

 

::Nah, mech. Finally confronted my Praxian-shaped deamon.::

 

::Seriously?:: The other sounded surprised. ::No bloodshed or something?::

 

::No, this was Prowl after all. I should’ve accounted that he wouldn’t want to prolong the argument or something. So I just wanted to call ya, tell ya all’s good.::

 

::Cool, cool. Though now it’s gonna get boring in my room again with ya gone.:: Blaster laughed. ::I liked ya as a room-mate.::

 

::Me too.:: Jazz partially lied.

 

::So what are you up to now? We could grab a cube when my shift is over, which wont be long now.::

 

::…Sorry, Blaster. But I’m super lazy now.:: Jazz knew this wasn’t a great excuse but it was all he had now. And it wasn’t exactly a lie. It was then that he noticed the throbbing pressure in his helm. Jazz shifted on the berth, careful of the cable as he hoped the pressure would ease. It didn’t. ::I’m currently curled up in bed, enjoying it. I missed it these two orns, haha.:: Jazz forced out, shuttering his optics tightly as slowly the pressure grew into pain.

 

::I bet you did.:: Blaster said, a little dejected but quickly brightened his mood. ::Okay, well I’ll leave ya to rest then.::

 

::Thanks, mech. Talk to ya later.:: Jazz gritted out as the connection ended. He just hoped Prowl would come back soon even if all he wanted to do was pull out the cable. He tried to pull up Prowl’s frequency to try and call him but even the slightest processing power caused him pain. Jazz pulled the covers over his helm and curled under them, telling himself he had promised Prowl not to pull out the cable.

 

It wasn't much later when Prowl returned. He had collected Energon for both of them, intending to share his if Jazz's energy levels were still too low. It wouldn't be the first time he'd skipped refueling in a orn and the consequences weren't terrible.

 

Upon entering their room, the Praxian first assumed his mate was recharging again. There was little other reason he should be completely covered in the blanket. So he pulled the cubes from his subspace and set them aside on his desk before sitting down on the berth again. The simulation might be complete now and he could separate it from Jazz. It was getting late and he still had results to review plus Jazz could continue recharging.

 

"Prowl..." Jazz groaned from under the blanket, frame shuddering.

 

"Jazz?" Prowl asked on reflex. He wasn't sure if he expected an answer but the way his mate was moving did not look good. When he didn't get an immediate reply he carefully pulled the blanket down off the other's helm to check on him.

 

Jazz had his optics shut tightly, clutching the blanket. " _Ow_...it's happening again..." He shuddered as his helm throbbed with pain.

 

"Alright, alright. Let me in," Prowl directed. "I need to see what's happening."

 

Jazz did as told and waited for Prowl to do whatever he needed to do. He gritted his denta and curled up more on himself as he tried not to cry out.

 

It took less than a klik to get in and interrupt the data flow, saving it to another location before terminating the current simulation. He waited to be sure it had completely ceased running before backing out of Jazz's mind and disconnecting both the computer and himself.

 

"Hopefully you're feeling better now?"

 

Jazz nodded. The sharpness of the pain had receded and now only the dull throb was left in its place. To top it all off, another alert about low fuel popped up, this one more urgent because his energy had fallen to 27%. Jazz finally allowed his visor to flicker on and look at his lover.

 

"Did you get it?"

 

Prowl had stood while Jazz recovered slightly and was standing beside the desk when Jazz asked. That made it easy to reach out and grab one of the cubes after he settled his device into its usual resting spot. Turning moments after Jazz asked, he held out the cube to him.

 

"I did. Here you are."

 

"Thanks." Jazz sat up and took the cube in shaking hands. He really didn't feel like fueling now but he needed the energy otherwise he'll feel worse. "So what now?" Jazz tentatively took a sip.

 

"I'll go through the saved data and attempt to locate the source of your pain." Prowl remained standing beside the berth as he spoke. "If I can find it then I can attempt to correct it. If I fail or can't find it then you may hurt again in a future attempt."

 

At the last words Jazz stopped drinking and just held it in his lap as he averted his gaze. "What if I don't wanna hurt again?" He asked hesitantly.

 

"Until we have a finished product there will always be a risk of pain. Even if I fix it this time a change in the future may cause pain in a different way."

 

At Jazz's less than subtle flinch, Prowl exvented. "Too much honesty?" he asked cautiously before sitting carefully beside his mate. "The future is often unpredictable so I can't definitely promise anything like that. I will do everything I can to resolve it as quickly as I can however."

 

"Okay." Jazz said as he resumed drinking his cube. "So long as you promise to stop when I ask you, I'm okay with it."

 

"I will stop it as soon as it is safest to do so," Prowl agreed. "Cutting everything in the middle of a critical process would hurt worse than letting that complete and then ending it. But I will stop it as soon as I safely can."

 

Jazz nodded at that and finished his cube. His energy had somewhat returned to 75% but he still felt sleepy. He placed the empty cube on the desk and shifted on the berth again, settling under the covers. "Are you gonna recharge with me or are you gonna work on the pad?"

 

"I was intending to work more," Prowl admitted. "But you don't seem to approve of that, do you?"

 

"I haven't seen you in two orns." Jazz said. "So no, not really. I want cuddles from you."

 

Prowl wisely refrained from pointing out it had been Jazz's own fault they had not seen each other in that time frame. That would only lead to another fight and they had just gotten past this one.

 

"I suppose I can always work later," he accepted.

 

Jazz smiled for the first time that night and shifted on the berth to make more room for Prowl, the pain had receded only to a dull throb which he noticed only if he searched for it.

 

Prowl moved as Jazz did so they could settle in together. It felt like both yesterday and weeks since they had curled up together and after only one minor issue they were tucked together comfortably. A few kliks were spent in idle conversation but Jazz was exhausted and soon fell into recharge. Prowl followed soon after, belatedly realizing his next morning was an early shift. At least he was getting some recharge this time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new update will come by the end of the week, hopefully!


	7. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaster is becoming more bold in his actions and words and Jazz gets a break from the simulations but it's not what he expected - or wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not beta'd.

 

Blaster held the goodies in one hand as he pinged on Jazz’s door. He hoped Jazz liked the potassium ones, there were very good and rare ones. Sadly, as of late he had been seeing his friend less and less. If it wasn’t for Jazz’s frequents comm calls Blaster would fear the other was avoiding him. His spark constricted at the thought but luckily he knew that wasn’t the case. Jazz was just busy. But the more time he spent apart from the other, the more he longed to be in his company. 

Blaster didn’t delude himself – he knew that Jazz didn’t return his feelings. But that didn’t stop him from having them. He knew that the only way he could have anything with the visored mech was if Jazz himself wanted it. Because Jazz was a mech who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it. And Blaster was lucky that so far Jazz hadn’t found a mech to capture his spark. ‘Yet.’ Blaster thought excitedly as he pinged the door again. He would win Jazz over, he knew. There was just one little hiccup on his way. 

Jazz’s room-mate, Prowl, opened the door. 

“Uh, hi Prowl.” Blaster said awkwardly. Prowl always made him uncomfortable for some reason. “Can I speak with Jazz?”

"I'm afraid he isn't feeling well and isn't taking visitors right now," Prowl answered, speaking as honestly as he dared while also trying to conceal his concern. "Apparently he had a minor accident in training earlier. He was fine at the time but the pain hit later. If I had more details I could share them but if you know his specialization..."

"Oh." Blaster visibly deflated, "Is he okay, how badly is he hurt? I thought he was just recharging and not picking up my comms.... Can I at least see him for a little bit?"

"No visible damage," Prowl explained, attempting to share it all in the most concise way so he could shoo Blaster away. He wanted to get back to Jazz as soon as he could because he really was suffering. "I wouldn't have known he'd gotten hurt if he hadn't happened to mention it before laying down to rest earlier. That in and of itself was unusual from him, but he woke up in pain less than a joor later and now he's even more sensitive to sounds. It's probably for the best if you leave him be for now."

"If he's so bad off why isn't he in the medbay?" Blaster asked concerned. "Did you call Ratchet? Can I just stay next to him, maybe hold his hand? I wont make a sound and I wont tell anyone he got hurt in training, I know his field. "

"I offered. He refused." Of course Blaster would make this difficult; he was one of Jazz's friends after all. "You know how Ratchet hates fixing stupid injuries so it was likely his own fault and as it doesn't seem life threatening I am not going to comm him. I don't need the hassle of dealing with Jazz after he's recovered if I go against his desires in such a way."

"Then I can see him if it's not that serious." Blaster pressed. "He's been quite busy lately and we haven't seen each other in a while. C'mon Prowl, just for a little while? I brought him some energon goodies. You know he likes them."

Prowl stared Blaster down for a klik before ex-venting audibly. "You are not going to give in until you get what you want, are you?"

"Nope." Blaster grinned.

"Your kind are all the same," Prowl grumbled but did step aside inside the door. "Endlessly persistent and utterly impossible to reason with."

As Blaster stepped in and the door slid shut, Prowl sent a text only comm to Jazz alerting him of the visitor. It was the best way they'd found to communicate without hurting Jazz's helm much more.

"If you disturb him too much I will remove you from this room," Prowl warned Blaster in a low voice. "It took long enough for him to settle the first time and I do not want to sit through that again."

Blaster nodded, not paying any more attention to Prowl as he zeroed in on the form on the berth. Jazz was lying at his side, back against the wall. His visor flickered to life as the other looked at him. Right away Blaster knew something was wrong when the color wasn’t the normal vibrant blue, but a pale sickish glow. But the soft smile Jazz sent him nearly had Blaster rushing over there to hug the other. So far all he did was return it. 

::Can I touch him?:: He gave Prowl a close range comm.

::Ask him:: Prowl replied. While he would much rather Blaster leave altogether, it wasn't his place to say whether Jazz could have or even wanted the contact or not.

/Hi Jazz./ Blaster texted the other, /Is it okay if I take your hand?/ 

There was a short pause from the other before Jazz texted a short, /Sure./ 

Carefully, Blaster made his way to the berth, trying to be as silent as possible. There he knelt next to it and gingerly took Jazz’s hand into his own. /Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?/ 

Jazz gave something similar to a shrug. /Thought everything was ok./

/You seem… not well. Why didn’t you call Ratchet?/ 

/Pit no./ Jazz texted but for different reasons than the ones Blaster was thinking. 

/I wish I could help you somehow./ Blaster said. /I hate seeing you hurt./ 

/Thanks Blaster./ Jazz smiled at him. /You’re a good friend./ 

Blaster’s smile strained. /I brought you some energon goodies./ 

/Sweet./ Jazz sent. /Thanks./ 

/Don’t mention it./ Blaster squeezed his hand.

Prowl gave them a few more kliks after Blaster set the goodies near Jazz before sending a comm. ::I hope you're content now. I have somewhere to be early tomorrow and he does need to rest too.::

::I’ll go when he tells me to go. I’ll stay the entire night if he wishes.:: Blaster answered him back and smiled at Jazz. /Your room-mates wants me to leave./ He sent, amused. /You should’ve seen him, he barely let me inside./

/I’m surprised he did./ Jazz messaged back. /He’s a good room-mate./ His visor flickered off.

/I can be a better one./ Blaster texted. 

Jazz gave a soft sigh. /I’m perfectly happy how things are./

::He won't tell you to leave if you don't bring it up:: Prowl responded to Blaster while simultaneously writing a text to Jazz. /You should tell him to leave if you want to cuddle again. He won't listen to me./

/When you’re feeling better, we should hang out more./ Blaster texted him. /I rarely see you now./ 

/I know, Blaster. I have Ops projects keeping me busy./ Jazz made his tired ex-vent visible on purpose. /But we’ll talk about this later, okay? I just wanna sleep this off./

 /Alright./ Blaster said, squeezing Jazz’s hand one more time and then slowly stood up. /I’ll come to check on you tomorrow./ 

 /Okay. See you./ Jazz texted him and buried his face in the pillow again, enjoying the softness with his heightened senses.

Neither Prowl nor Blaster said anything as Blaster turned and left the room. Only then did Prowl get up from where he'd sat down at the typically unused desk and walked over to the berth Jazz was on.

/Are you heading into recharge already or did you still want to cuddle for a while?/

/Wanna fall in recharge while cuddling you./ Jazz texted back.

Rather than sending a reply, Prowl crawled onto the berth alongside his mate, moving extra carefully to avoid jostling him. After settling against Jazz, he pressed a very soft kiss to the top of his helm; the only part of Jazz he could reach presently. /Love you/ he finally sent. /Recharge well./

* * *

"Blaster is certainly going to be happy."

 

The door had just slid closed behind Jazz after he entered their room when he heard the words. He'd recovered well and fairly quickly from the little 'incident' the last time they'd run a simulation. Enough to go through an entire shift without any pain finally. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of risking that again though so he'd been delaying telling Prowl this. His guilt would get the better of him soon enough but getting a few extra orn of his mate acting super worried was nice.

 

It was that very guilt that had his processor spitting out all sorts of horrible reasons why Prowl might have said such a thing. Belatedly too, Jazz realized he really should comment but all he managed was a dull, "What?"

 

Prowl looked up again from the datapad he held. Surprisingly, this time it was unrelated to his project. Instead, it was an itinerary and he had it open to his own upcoming schedule. At Jazz's comment, he spoke again. "Blaster's going to like the next few weeks."

 

"Why do you say that?" Jazz asked, confused as he went next to his lover to give him a gentle pet on a door-wing as a form of greeting. He sat on the berth next to the desk and canted his head. "Prowler?"

 

"Simply upcoming events," Prowl answered as he turned his helm to follow Jazz. With equal parts concern and interest, he asked, "How are you? You seem energetic so hopefully you weren't in much pain all orn?"

 

"What does Blaster have to do with ya leaving for Primus knows how long?" Jazz raised an optic behind his visor as he reached over for Prowl's data pad, skimming it over for a bit before setting it aside and plopping his helm in his hand, smiling lazily at the other. The guilt inside him didn't leave him be. He didn't want Prowl to leave and worry for him—he wasn't that cruel. "And I'm actually... _good_. Slightly more hypersensitive, but no pain—no anything." He explained. "Like it never happened."

 

"That's good." Though the words themselves were dull, Prowl's tone was grateful and his wings settled from the momentary 'surprised' tilt to a 'pleased/grateful' angle. "And Blaster will be thrilled because there's nothing but shift differences stopping him from practically living with you."

 

“Prowl…”

 

Prowl sighed softly. "I know he's your friend and you can handle yourself but do be careful around him. I think he's starting to become obsessed with you. He must have stopped by twenty or better times while you were hurting, and that's besides the times I did let him in because you weren't recharging at the time."

 

"That's just the way he is—he obsesses." Jazz explained. "If he knew I was in a serious relationship, he would be much more... restrained. But he's sweet and he's my _friend_." Jazz stressed that word. "And he will remain that. I don't want you to think about him. Do you have everything ready for your trip?" Jazz asked instead, not exactly happy with both topics.

 

"I'm just concerned because that sort of behavior often leads to missing mechs. And while logically I know it would take more skill than he probably has to do anything to you in an army base, I can't help worrying." He sighed again before reaching over for the datapad.

 

"There wasn't much to get ready. We've been advised not to bring much," he explained as he pulled up the suggested pack list and offered it to Jazz. "If it's on that list and you have it, you can bring it but anything else is your own risk. Subspace use draws power and we're going into an area on rations. If anything does go wrong and we're around during an attack then we'll want to be as capable as possible."

 

"Okay, first, Blaster isn't a psychopathic killer. Let's make that clear." Jazz chuckled but quickly sobered up. "Second," He reached for the door-wing that was nearest to him and gently placed his palm on it, spreading his fingers, "...just be careful, okay?" Jazz tried to hide the worry he had been fighting all orn. "And when you come back, _healthy and whole_ , I have something in mind we could do." He spoke softly the last part.

 

"It does sound ridiculous when you say it like that," Prowl agreed with a slight smile. "Oh?" he asked of Jazz's last statement, curious. "Exactly what do you have in mind? Give me more incentive."

 

"Well," Jazz fiddled with the door-wing as he suddenly got nervous. "We could, if you want, spark-merge?" Jazz asked tentatively. They weren't bonded, and this was a giant step for none bonded mechs. But Jazz knew what his spark wanted—what it _needed_. "Just think about it on your trip. "

 

"That's quite the step," Prowl commented when he'd finally processed that he really had heard right. "You're absolutely certain about this?"

 

"I am." Jazz said without a doubt. "I love you. And I want this more than ever. Plus, this will give you motivation to come back quicker." Jazz chuckled qt the last part as he finally let go of the door wing and looked at Prowl.

 

"You say that as though I am lacking any to begin with," Prowl gently teased. Most of his processor was still in awe of the offer. He had no doubts about wanting to accept but whether they should during the war was highly questionable. He was grateful to Jazz for giving him the time to think about it. While he might not have much free time during this assignment, he might also have plenty and he would make sure to have a well supported decision when he returned.

 

Making an easy choice, he leaned forward to give Jazz a quick kiss. "I love you too."

 

Jazz grinned against the kiss and spoke when they finally parted. "Though I gotta admit—it's not often that I see you territorial. There was that one other time, and that’s it. Usually I'm the possessive one." Jazz chuckled. "But Blaster really is a good mech."

 

"I don't know why," Prowl admitted reluctantly, "but something about the way he acts around you irks me. Perhaps if I could figure it out I would be less bothered but for the time being it remains an unsolvable irritant."

 

Jazz chuckled, "Didn't you say that I irkyou all the time, once?" He then looked then at the prototype on the desk. "So, will you manage without your little side project for so long?"

 

"As you still do occasionally," he replied without missing a moment as his gaze followed Jazz's. "It will be annoying to put it on hold but such is necessary." He sighed then looked back to his mate. "Promise me you'll make sure it remains safe?"

 

"I promise." Jazz said and meant it. "I know how much this project means for you...for Praxus."

 

Wordlessly Prowl grabbed his mate's arm and tugged him close for an embrace. He may not have forgotten why he'd begun this project but it had slipped from active memory and the mention of everything and everyone lost was unexpected. It was irrational, but he needed to confirm that the mech he loved was really still safe at least.

 

Jazz hugged him back, pressing him close. He tucked Prowl's helm in the crook of his neck, gently petting it. "You're a good spark, Prowl. Despite everything, I'm really proud with you." He gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

 

* * *

Jazz impatiently tapped his finger on the table top in the rec room, worried gaze hidden behind the visor. There were so many sets of door-wings running around him, but not the ones he longed to see. A bunch of refugees from the neighboring cities of Praxus were passing through their base on their way to a colony in one of the moons, far away from the war. 

“S’weird.” Blaster muttered next to him, nursing a cube of energon. 

“Hmm?” Jazz finally looked his way. “What’s weird?” 

“Not used to seeing door-wings all around me.” Blaster said. “Not that I’m not happy to see more of their frame type. It’s just…weird.” 

For Jazz it only made him miss Prowl more. Not to mention worry. Prowl had missed their planned calls the last four orns and Jazz was _this_ close to packing his things and going to search for them. Or break in the security files about their planned stops and mission reports. Either way, Jazz will do _something_ soon before he really lost his cool. 

“Hello, Cybertron to Jazz?” Blaster called. 

“Here.” Jazz turned to grin at him.

"Good," the communications mech replied. His expression gradually morphed to a smile as he went on. "Was starting to worry the power was running but nothing was functional in that helm of yours. What's got your processor floating around Luna-1?"

“Actually, I’m composing a song, sorta.” Jazz rubbed the back of his helm. It was a half-lie. He really was composing a song to play as background music to the short video he was making with some of his photos with Prowl. But so far he was only working on the music part because he had given that pad with pictures to Prowl for his time away from their base. In a way it was ironic – Jazz was keeping safe Prowl’s little project, while the Praxian was keep all of his collection of memories of them. Which only made Jazz miss his mate more than ever now, because he had no pad to look through.

"Really?" Blaster asked, perking up even more. "That's gotta be good. When do I get ta listen?"

"When it actually starts sounding just right in my head." Jazz grinned at his friend's enthusiasm. "Which wont happen soon, still in the beginning of it. Wish there was a piano or something to play a little bit on. Haven't seen one since forever." Jazz sighed dreamily, with actual longing to the musical instruments.

"You and me both, mech," Blaster agreed. "At least ya got to learn how to play one. I didn't even get to see one with my own optics 'til I was an adult frame an' the war got on the way before I could learn."

"Yeah, it's shame how much we lost." Jazz sighed as his optics skimmed over the new Praxian mechs "Y'know, these Praxians know how to appreciate music. You could try and speak with one. Ya can never know when you'll find your sparkmate." He winked.

Blaster stuttered at the sudden topic shift before finally finding words. "Nah, mech. I ain't looking for my sparkmate right now." Internally he carefully tried to shove away the thought that he might be talking with that very bot right now. "'Sides, they all seem far too solemn for a mech like you or me."

"Well, I wouldn't be jumping with cheer a vorn after my home was annihilated." Jazz said, "That's kinda a mood killer for me as well...." He trailed off as an idea sparked in him. "Oh! What if we try to change that? Well, not entirely, but try to make them feel a little bit happier for a joor or two!" Jazz explained as he turned to fully look at Blaster. "We can make a small party here in the rec room. Nothing too glamorous, but something to make them feel welcomed and supported for the short time they are here before they head for the colonies?"

"I dunno,"Blaster responded. "That did just happen recently and I don't think they'd appreciate it." He glanced around the quiet and downcast room before adding more. "Do their kind even know how to party? I never met one that did."

"Of course! They like to have fun like any other mechs." Jazz explained. "And this party wont be bad; due to their door-wings the music can't be too loud. So I don't think we'll be in too much trouble. And I wasn't thinking something big... You and I can start it, try and get them to loosen up a little and then we'll let them do their thing." Jazz grinned, totally sure of his plan.

Blaster couldn't help chuckling at Jazz's enthusiasm. "Sure mech. You get the okay fer a party and I'll be right there helpin' ya host."

Jazz smiled at him. “Leave it to me.” 

* * *

Jazz had to admit that this time wasn’t easy to get the okay for the party. After all, the commander of the base had left with most of the high officers and Ironhide was left in charge. Let it be said, Ironhide wasn’t a mech easily pleased. After reassuring his commanding officer that everything will be arranged and small, and no, it will not traumatize the poor Praxians (why did everyone think they were scared from parties?) Jazz was finally, grudgingly given the green light. Ratchet’s support on this idea was a huge help and the visored mech made a mental note to properly thank the medic later. 

At least this kept Jazz from thinking much about Prowl. A couple of orns ago he had gotten a very short message from Prowl, just saying he was ‘ _fine_ ’ and nothing else. But Jazz knew even if Prowl wasn’t ‘fine’ the other wouldn’t mention it. So Jazz worried. But at least this was keeping his mind from dark thoughts. The night before Jazz was even tempted to use the battle computer and see all the possible scenarios that would’ve gone wrong. 

With a deep sigh, Jazz looked back into the rec room. Quiet music played in the back ground and Praxians walked around, quietly talking to each other. Other frame types were among them as well, but the winged mechs tended to keep to themselves. 

“Well, this party is kinda dead.” Blaster commented next to him. 

“We just gotta wake everyone up.” Jazz muttered more to himself rather than Blaster. He saw a pair of fluttering door-wings in a small herd of Praxians. They belonged to a young mech who smiled at him and waved. Jazz waved back and the young mech hurried over to them, followed by a more brightly painted Praxian. “Hey Blue, Smokey.” Jazz grinned at them as Blaster next to him waved at them.

"Hi Jazz," the younger Praxian replied. "Who're your friend? I don't think I've seen him before but there are a lot if mechs around that I haven't seen before and I guess it makes sense because we've only been here a few orn so there's no way I would know everyone even if I had known anyone before we got here."

Blaster would have introduced himself but the young mech kept going and so he instead waited in silence to see if he would ever stop.

"It's kinda weird that we arrived in time to see a party. I didn't know military bases even _did_ things like that at all! It's kinda weird but still really cool to see even though it seems like this is a really quiet event and the timing is kinda strange too."

Jazz smiled fondly at the chatty Praxian, enjoying Blaster’s surprised expression. When Bluestreak didn’t seem like stopping, the Praxian next to him placed a hand on his shoulder. It seemed like he was an expert in subtly managing the young mech. “Blue, I don’t think you introduced yourself to Jazz’s friend. I’m Smokescreen by the way. Nice to meet you.” The blue and yellow Praxian said, giving a light smirk Blaster. 

“I’m glad ya like it here, Blue.” Jazz grinned at the Praxians. “I know the party’s a little dead now, but just wait till the karaoke part starts. Blaster here had managed to find us so nice mics.”

"Right," The grey Praxian agreed and turned to Blaster. "I'm Bluestreak."

"I can see why," Blaster commented. Before offering his designation in return. "Blaster's my name and music's my game. If I don' know it then it probably never happened." He gave a light smile as that reminded him of some of his work in the past. "Nice ta meet the both of ya too."

“We actually have one resident Praxian here at the base.” Jazz said, spark fluttering a little as he thought about where Prowl might be now. “But currently he’s away on a mission and won’t be able to see you off. Which is kinda a shame, I know he would’ve been very happy to see so many of his frame type here.” 

But this was nothing. They used to be millions of Praxians before. Now? They barely passed a hundred and that’s only because those mechs were either scattered over the planet or were in the outskirts of the city during the bombing or in neighboring small cities and villages. 

“Really?” Smokescreen asked. “I was under the impression that no Praxian wanted to do anything with the war, especially after...” 

“He’s stubborn like that.” Jazz quickly said, noticing Bluestreak’s drooping door-wings. “He’s not like your average Praxian.” Jazz found his smile back. “Actually we have a couple of other Praxians too, but they are so few to begin with and are scattered all over our bases.”

"Really?" Bluestreak asked, doorwings fluttering a little. "So there's no rules restricting them from helping just because of what happened?"

“No...?” Jazz looked at the young mech confused. “Why would there be? All frame types are free sentient being, as our Prime likes to say. Of course there’s no restriction. It’s their right if they wish it.” Jazz explained. 

Smokescreen thought was glaring at Jazz. “Of course, there is such a thing as  _age restriction_ when it comes to war.” 

Jazz blinked, looking between the two before settling on Bluestreak as  comprehension grew. “Oh...oh Blue. You’re far too young to enlist.” Jazz said  apolitically. “There’s this thing where we don’t let youngling’s fight, for obvious reasons.”

"But I can help," he argued, wings flaring to show his distress. "I know I can! I don't wanna be someone who always needs protecting and saving. I can be useful too. I can!"

“Yes, you can.” Smokescreen said exasperated. This conversation obviously had been held many times before. “When the right time comes. Which definitely is NOT now.” 

“Blue, you’re still so young.” Jazz said gently. “You don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t feel the need to prove anything.”

"I don't care what you think," The gray mech directed at the older Praxian. "I can make my own choices and I want to help."

Blaster, meanwhile, was feeling more and more in the way as he stood there in silence waiting for the situation to calm down. He didn't exactly condone younglings participating in the war effort but there was always work that could be done that involved no fighting at all. He certainly wouldn't begrudge the kid’s desire to strike back at the Decepticons either. That opinion seemed to be counterproductive right now though so he kept quiet.

Smokescreen was about to say something and Jazz just knew he would have a fight one his hands. So before the older Praxian could pour more oil into the fire Jazz said: "Wait."

Jazz turned to look at Blue. "What if you spoke with a Praxian, who had been part of this army and has felt what you all have. Because neither me nor Blaster have the right to tell you what to do," He then looked pointedly at Smokescreen, "Or deny you anything." Jazz sighed. "My room-mate. I told you about him earlier. The only Praxian on this base. What if you stay here until he returns, and speak with him? He will give you the most adequate advice. And he is someone who feels your loss, because it's his loss too. Would that be acceptable? "

Latching firmly onto what might be his best and only chance to be helpful, Bluestreak began nodding immediately. It was something he had quickly picked up after the attack when no one around him could understand wing gestures. "And if he says it's a good idea then you'll have to start respecting my choices," he directed at Smokescreen as he turned to face the mech. "I'm not just a dumb youngling."

"I never said you were dumb, squirt." Smokescreen said as he playfully pushed Bluestreak a little. He sighed deeply. "We'll stay. I want to speak with this fella as well. And then we'll decide what to do, okay? I'm not saying no. But I'm not saying yes just yet."

Bluestreak made a sound that could have been agreeing or argument but said no more. Behind him though, his doorwings swayed in a 'pleased/content' movement, obviously happy to not have been overruled for once if one understood wing language.

Blaster decided it was finally time to speak up. "So… about that karaoke?" Popping a couple mics from his subspace, he offered one out to Jazz.

Jazz smirked at the other mech before taking two of the mics. He winked at Blaster. “Mech, ya know the drill.” 

Blaster grinned wickedly as he left their small group and went to the impromptu small stage they had made. There wаsa big data pad that would serve as their music player, connected to the stereo speakers they had brought in the night. Blaster signaled him in that he was ready. At the same time a couple of mechs from the crowd were looking at them curiously. 

“So, Blue.” Jazz said as he reached for the young mech, uncurling his crossed arms. The Praxian looked at him confused, “Is there a song ya wanna sing to Smokey here and everyone else here?” 

“Is there a song _‘Let me live my own life’_?” Bluestreak asked. 

“Smartaft.” Smokescreen muttered as the music started.

~

The Karaoke was a success. Somewhat. It was mostly him and Blaster and a couple of other soldiers from their base singing. The only Praxian that dared to sing was Bluestreak. 

Somewhere towards the end though, Jazz suddenly vanished.  He stumbled into the first closet he found. The door barely had closed when he opened the channel. 

::Prowler?:: Jazz asked.

::I was beginning to wonder if you would ever answer:: came the response in a tired voice. ::It would be just our luck you would be busy when I finally had the chance to comm.::

:: _Prowl_...:: Jazz breathed the name and the relief it came with it made the visored mech light headed. He sank to the ground, not really registering what the other was saying but the sound of his voice was all he needed to calm his spark. ::Primus, mech, don’t ya ever dare scare me like that! Why didn’t ya call sooner? Or sent more than a three worded letter. Primus!:: Jazz shuttered his optics, hand resting over his chest, above the spark as wave after wave of relief washed over him.

::I do apologize, love. Things have been… more chaotic than expected. Thus far I have not seen combat but it was close on a couple occasions and our company may not continue to be so lucky if we continue along the original route.::

::Just be careful.:: Jazz nodded at Prowl’s explanation even though he knew the other couldn’t see him. ::How are you anyway? Are you okay? Do you have enough fuel? I miss you terribly.::

::I'm doing as well as can be expected. I do miss you greatly as well. Some mornings I don't want to online because I know I won't see you or hear your voice or anything.:: There was such a longing in the words as he spoke. ::I love you so much, my Jazz. There aren't words to explain my feelings.::

Jazz spark nearly ripped in two. It hurt so much to not see the thing you love more than life itself. He smiled in the dark little room, a couple of tears escaping. ::I know. I know because I feel that way too.:: He brushed his face and made sure his tears didn’t carry in his voice. ::Just come back alive and well. That’s all I want. It’s so hard seeing so many pairs of door-wings and none of them yours.::

::What do you mean?:: Prowl asked, suddenly concerned himself. ::What's happened over there? Are you alright? You weren't sent anywhere too dangerous, were you?::

::Every thing's fine, love. Don't worry about me.:: Jazz gave a soft chuckle. ::After you left we got a batch of Praxians passing through our base. They're headed for Luna-8 to join their colonies there since it's gotten so unsafe on Cybertron.... you would've liked it here now. Everywhere I look—door-wings.:: Jazz smiled sadly at no one. ::But not the door-wings I long to see and caress.::

::That must be an interesting challenge for you:: Prowl replied as jokingly as he could. Part of him longed to be around for such a sight, for an event that had once been so normal in his life, but another part of him was terrified of facing the guilt that he and the army he had chosen were responsible for allowing the city to fall. So he kept both emotions from his voice and tried to keep his tone upbeat so Jazz wouldn't notice. ::I will be back soon enough, love. Then you won't need to hold back, at least in private.::

Jazz smiled as he blinked a couple of more tears away. ::I know and I can hardly wait. Just come back.:: And then to lighten the mood, he added, ::You wouldn't believe what we're doing now. Blaster and I organized a karaoke night for the Praxians. To try and make 'em feel better.:: He chuckled. ::Also, when ya get back, there will be two Praxians eager to speak to you. Okay, one of them is eager, the other not so much. They think about enlisting.::

::I'm surprised:: Prowl commented. ::It must not be much of a party by your standards.:: He didn't know what to say in regards to the duo that wanted to meet him so he stayed silent there.

::...Have thought about my suggestion?:: Jazz asked, not wanting their conversation to end. ::Of course you don't have to tell me now. I'm just... curious.::

::I have:: he replied confidently. It really was something he wanted more than almost anything in the world. There was just the issue of how safe and practical such a thing was during the war. ::It will be better to give you an answer when I return however, so you have a couple weeks to wait yet.::

::It's okay. I expected nothing else.:: Jazz chuckled but that quickly died as the fear he has been fighting all this time came crashing down. ::...Prowl, if...if you are faced with the choice to be a hero, or a coward...:: And this time the tears returned, ::..I’m begging you, _be a coward_. Because I would rather have the spark of a coward, rather than mourn the one of a hero.::

::Jazz…: There was so much he wanted to say - _to do_ \- to reassure his mate but the distance between them left the words ineffectual. ::I swear I will return to you. No matter what happens, alright?::

::Now that's what I want to hear.:: Jazz laughed as he brushed his tears. ::Just come back.::

::Of course, love. Everything that matters at all to me is right there, where you are. How could I not return?::

:: Good. Or I'll raise the Pit to Cybertron.:: Jazz promised.

::If anyone could, it would be you.:: There was a smile visible in his voice at that but it faded for the next words. ::I have to go though, someone's coming. Keep yourself safe and I'll be back to you as soon as possible. Love you.::

::I love you too.::

 


	8. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble.

"Morning, love," Prowl commented as Jazz stirred on the berth, finally waking.

They had both fallen into recharge almost immediately the previous night after a private and emotional reunion. It had likely occurred mid-word as he had been gone nearly three months due to a delay when Decepticons attacked a neighboring base and the pair had been attempting to catch up on current events. The entire ordeal had been exhausting for them both and Prowl found it unsurprising Jazz would only now be waking, with half the orn gone. He wished he too could manage that but after an early rise every orn during the trip, his frame hadn't allowed him to rest nearly as long. 

Instead he'd found himself online alone shortly after first shift had begun, and subsequently alone in the Rec Room as he went to collect Energon. There he had been found, by chance, by the Praxian duo Jazz had mentioned to him. They had entered into an exceedingly awkward conversation and he was fairly certain he had only made things worse between the two. Thankfully an opening had come up and he'd been able to escape back to the safety of his shared room. He hadn't left since.

"Did you recharge well?"

At first Jazz didn’t respond. He allowed his visor to lazily flicker to life, taking in the scent, the warmth – _the life_ of his lover next to him. He pressed closer, hiding his face in the crook if Prowl’s neck and shoulder, hooking one leg over the Praxian’s.

“Mornin’ love.” Jazz murmured, enjoying the closeness of the other. The hand that was resting on Prowl’s chest, right above his spark where he could feel the steady vibrations gently caressed it. “Best recharge in a long time. You?”

"Yes," Prowl agreed, shifting more than he had dared when climbing back into the berth earlier so that he could hold his mate in his arms. "Albeit too short, but I did get a few things out of the way while you were still resting." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Jazz's helm before adding one more thing. "There is Energon for you on the desk, when you're ready for it."

"Later." Jazz said. "I want cuddles from you. It's been far too long since you've been in my arms. Now that's just unacceptable." He lifted his helm to grin at his lover and delivered a kiss to his mouth. This one was longer and Jazz allowed himself to linger there. Feel bold, and dare Jazz say it— _needy_ _—_ he soon deepened the kiss, allowing their glossas to play with each other. It wasn't long when their lazy kiss was broken as Jazz smiled with longing at his lover.

"You look like you're planning something," Prowl commented when he finally could, looking at Jazz. "You've got that conspiratorial grin that means trouble, and not always the good kind," he teased.

"Trust me, lover." Jazz grinned as he forced his body to move and he straddled Prowl, leaning down to deliver him another kiss, hands reaching to caress his door-wings. "This is the good kind of trouble." He breathed against Prowl's lips before pressing them close again. "It's been far too long since we made love. I intend to change that. Thoroughly." He grinned wickedly.

Prowl met that grin with a smirk of his own. "Oh really now?" His own hands came up to start casually exploring his mate's frame. "In that case, I can't wait to see what trouble you have planned."

"Yes. You poor, poor Praxian. Left without proper lovin' for so long." Jazz laughed as he kissed Prowl again, allowing his touches on the door-wings to be bolder.

Prowl moaned softly into the kiss as sensitive sensors lit up in his wings at the contact. If he weren't pinned, the delicate panels would be moving to follow and prolong the wonderful touch of his mate.

When the kiss did end, Prowl found himself speaking. "And I suppose you have the remedy for that?"

"That I do, lover. That I do." And then Jazz turned his full focus on bringing his mate to pure ecstasy. And taking himself along for the ride too, naturally.

* * *

They had interfaced right up until Jazz had to prepare for his next shift, each getting several amazing overloads in the few short joor they had together before Jazz was needed elsewhere. As part of the company that had recently toured other bases, Prowl had the next couple orn free to rest up from the journey and once Jazz left he had managed to fall back into recharge. For just a moment his life was nearly perfect, and without any stress he was able to quickly sink into a resting state as he awaited his mate's return.

Prowl had woken more well rested than he could remember but Jazz had still been on shift. With nothing to occupy him, he'd set about designing a new style simulation based on a scenario he'd all but witnessed occur less than a month previous. It took nearly a joor, but he was finally done to his satisfaction for a preliminary trial. And it was perfect timing too, as Jazz was due back any klik.

The door opened five klicks later and inside came his Jazz, grinning from audio to audio. "Loveeeeeer." He sang the moment the door closed behind him and walked over to Prowl where he was sitting at his work station. Jazz easily slipped between his door-wings and gave him a hug, along with a kiss to the cheek as he looked down at Prowl's project. "I'm impressed you managed so long without it." He chuckled, enjoying the other's closeness. "Also, did ya know Blue and Smokey will be staying here? Seems like Blue can join, but he needs a legal guardian to stay with him or somethin'."

"So he won that debate?" Prowl asked as he turned his helm to offer Jazz a kiss in return. "I admit I'm surprised. The army must really be needing volunteers."

"I gotta admit too, the kid could be pretty persistent. Plus I think his conversation with you solidified that, heh." Jazz chuckled as he slipped away from Prowl and sat on the berth, smiling at him. "It's so nice to not return to empty quarters." He grinned. "So what were you up to all orn? Getting sent on such a long mission has the lovely perk of time off."

Prowl couldn't help chuckling at the last. "Seeing as I didn't recharge nearly as long as someone here and you did such a wonderful job of relaxing me, I ended up wasting most of your shift back in recharge. I only onlined a little while ago and started work on a new type of simulation. I think I got all the variables I could accounted for so now all it needs is a test to see if it's even a viable method."

"Test, huh?" Jazz hummed but there was a small smile on his face. "I guess you're quite eager then. And it's been far too long. Hope that sparkling of yours didn’t get any dust inside." He chuckled. "I'm ready when you are."

Collecting his project, Prowl stood and moved over to join Jazz on the berth, although he remained perched on the edge. "Everything should seem the same as usual for you," he explained, leaving the modified battle computer sitting in his lap for now. "You'll begin the simulation I give you as normal and it should behave as these tests always do. It seemed like we solved the pain issue last time so hopefully that doesn't show up again. My only real concern is the time. This is an open-ended test with a myriad of variables and I can't even guess how long it might take."

"No prob." Jazz said. "Got no where else to be but here. I made sure that when ya get back I'm mostly available during your time off." Jazz couldn't help himself—he pecked Prowl on the lips again with a smile, happy that the other was back. He opened his neck port.

Prowl connected the device first, then himself, in the usual configuration before sending Jazz the information to feed into the computer. All that was left then was to start the simulation.

"Make sure you tell me if anything seems too different from the usual, alright?" he asked before they began. Nothing should be different but he might have factored something incorrectly and unintentionally cause an issue somewhere.

"Sure." Jazz said, "Can we cuddle during the simulation?"

"Don't we usually," the Praxian replied easily but a small smile appeared on his features as he shifted to be closer.

Prowl wasn’t kidding when he said this simulation might take time. They chatted absently, even traded soft kisses and caresses, Jazz almost tempted to ask Prowl to test the simulation if it can work during overloads. He saved this idea for later; now this was one simulation he would be looking forward to.

By the time the second joor ended Jazz shuttered his optics, pressing closer to the other’s warm frame as recharge claimed him. It was so peaceful and safe here, in Prowl’s arms. Jazz didn’t want to ever have to move from this spot. His little heaven. _His_.

It wasn’t long after when the simulation was done and for once Prowl just wanted to spend the rest of the night with him. Jazz was all too happy to comply. This right here, having the mech you love was all that mattered – the reason why Jazz was in this stupid war. So that it could end faster and they could have a normal life, a home, jobs, creations – a family.

Jazz didn’t like that the next orn Prowl was called into an emergency meeting. Not long after he was being sent out on a mission much similar to his previous one. The Praxian had to leave as soon as possible so Jazz wasn’t even able to say goodbye that orn because he was in the middle of his shift.

When he went back to their quarters that orn, they seemed emptier than usual. With a heavy sigh, Jazz sat on the cold berth and looked towards the empty work place of Prowl, longing to see him one more time. He fell into a restless recharge that orn. His early shift the next orn came far too soon. Jazz was debating that maybe this time he could ask to be deployed to assist Prowl and the mission he was in. But before he could come up with a proper plan how to deliver his proposal a sudden message had reached their base.

Of course, first the officers had the full version of it but even that was enough to cause whispers and murmurs amongst the mechs. It wasn’t long before the message was allowed to be publicly posted, with some of the more sensitive data hidden. But it held the same end result. Jazz had been sitting on the berth in their quarters when he read the latest news. He felt his spark skip a beat as he realized the report was about Prowl’s mission.

Slowly, word by word, Jazz felt as his world was crumbling to pieces.

Because Prowl’s team had been attacked.

And right there, at the bottom of the report was a short list of the casualty designations. Jazz dropped the pad to the ground as he read Prowl’s. It clattered, leaving a loud echo.

“No…” Jazz whispered in their empty quarters. “No, no, no…” There was a mistake, he was sure. Because there was just _no way_ that Prowl would… that he would… No. Jazz refused to believe it. His Prowl was strong. He was a survivor. Jazz’s breathing elevated as his spark started beating so fast that his frame was close to overheating. But Jazz didn’t care as he found Prowl’s secure frequency and called him on it. Nothing. The signal wasn’t even transferring, as if that line…no longer existed. 

::Prowl!:: Jazz called through the empty air waves. ::Prowl please!:: Silence was his answer. ::Prowler! Prowl! PROWL!:: Jazz screamed. ::Please, answer me! Lover, love – I’m begging you! Please!:: He must have been screamed for a while, because at one point static started to lace his voice. He hadn’t even noticed he was standing in the room, staring blindly at the wall ahead of him, tears staining his face. The room was quiet. Except for the heavy breathing of his vents. It was then that Jazz heard the sobs.

“No…” Jazz shook his helm as he looked at their berth. It was big and it was empty. There was no one to share it with. The tears left him numb as Jazz looked at Prowl’s work desk – the battle computer stood there, unfinished and likely would never be. Because there was no one to finish it. 

“No,no,no,no…” Jazz kept saying, desperately as he lifted his hands to clutch his helm, legs shaking. “He can’t…no you’re not…” He shook his helm, spark ripping in his chest. His spark. Now Jazz would never get to feel that spark, would never get to see its brilliant light. Because it was gone. Forever. And Prowl was somewhere laying _gray_. 

All of the little plans, his little hopes and dreams – it all came rushing forwards and all Jazz saw now was _what-could-have-been_. He will never bond with Prowl. They will never see the end of the war. They’ll never have creations. He’ll never hold the other in his arms again. Jazz was alone. Forever.

Feeling sick from the revelation, Jazz fell to his knees and puked. He heaved until his tanks were empty and all he was left to do was sob. “No… no…no…” He shook his helm, optics tightly shut. But when they did open Jazz couldn’t stand the sight of their room… _His_ room now, because Prowl was gone. There were so many memories here. Every surface, every object – it was all connected to Prowl in some way. What would it be like now, when the Praxian was no longer around? Jazz didn’t want to find out.

Jazz’s sobs became louder as he found the strength to get up. Dizzy and shaking, he ran to the door where he transformed the moment he was out in the corridor. The world felt like it was moving in slow motion and Jazz was going just too fast for it. Everything changed. Because Prowl was gone and Jazz was alone.

Jazz raced faster down the corridor, uncaring. He drove wildly, as if trying to escape the mere thoughts alone. He burst out of the base’s main gates at high speeds, not even noticing the guards there that told him to stop because it was raining acid. Jazz didn’t care, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Prowl was gone.

Engine maxed out, Jazz sped fast, not even feeling the sting of the acid on his armor. Because how could he? All he felt right now was the agonizing pain that _Prowl. Was. Gone_. There was hole in his spark. Prowl was probably laying gray and cold somewhere, melting in said acid. Never to flutter his door-wings again. Never to give his barely-there smiles or exasperated sighs. Never to pick up and finish reading that book-file he claimed to have started before even the war began.

Jazz only stopped because he didn’t take a turn correctly, his speed too fast and ended up sliding down the sticky with acid road, crashing his side against a crystal tree. The visored mech sobbed as he transformed, but not from the pain of the crash, but the one in his spark. “How could you…” Jazz whispered in the rain, everything around him gray from the clouds. He looked towards the road, where a Praxian frame stood.

“How could you die?!” He yelled as he used the crystal tree he had crashed with to support himself upright. “How could you make me love you and then DIE!” Jazz sobbed as he sank down to the ground again, face stained with tears, acid and energon. “ _Prowl!_ ”

"Jazz!"

Prowl couldn't help the cry that escaped him as he watched the mech collapse. After watching him hit something already, he was terrified his mate was in real trouble and moved quickly to his side. Any damage could be bad, but in the middle of an acid storm even a small would could lead to offlining.

"Jazz, please, look at me," he pleaded, wings flared to protect him as much as possible from the rain. It would hurt like the Pit when he turned those sensors back on, but all that mattered now was protecting the mech he loved. "We have to get back inside and let a medic examine you."

"YOU LIED!" Jazz screamed and used what strength he had to push Prowl. "You lied!!! You promised you would return, you promised you would be careful!" Jazz cried and he shoved Prowl again, but it was futile with him barely even standing up right. "You promised me you wouldn't be a hero and you lied! And now you're dead and I'm alone!"

"I… Jazz, I'm not offline." Amidst the shouting and shoving, Prowl was fairly certain he heard something about being offline but that didn't make any sense. "Jazz, look at me. I'm right here!"

"No, you're not!" Jazz cried, "You went on that stupid mission and didn't come back! Why? How do you expect me to exist in a world where you are no longer in it?!" Tears kept falling from his face as they mixed with energon from a small crack on his helm and the acid that kept falling, but Jazz was numb to it all.

"Jazz…" Prowl struggled for words as he tried to piece together what was happening. "I came back. We spent most of the orn together! Don't you remember?"

"But then you went again!" Jazz shook his helm. "You left me again and this time you didn't come back." Hid vents hiccuped. "You-you died..."

"No I didn't…" It was all he could find to say. On top of the confusion from the situation and his concern over Jazz ever since his mate had sped away from their room, he was now getting a warning about potential severe damage if he didn't get inside soon. An acid storm really was not the time nor place for something like this. "Jazz, come on. We need to get out of the rain. You can explain what happened later. Please?"

"It doesn't matter. I failed to protect you. You died and nothing matters. I don't care... " Jazz cried, ignoring his own warnings and error messages.

"So you're going to offline here in the rain?" Prowl questioned. "What purpose does that serve?" Jazz wouldn't listen to reason but maybe another option was available. "If you're going to offline at least take some Decepticons out with you."

Jazz froze at that as he looked at Prowl. "...What?"

"Offlining all alone doesn't help you get revenge," Prowl replied. It was getting hard to focus but he had to do something. "If you're going to die anyway, why not take out as many of the enemy as you can first?"

Jazz just stated ahead for a moment, thoughts too fast for him to process passing through his helm. Prowl was right. He had to avenge him. If he had been fighting the war to protect Prowl, to ensure a future for them, then now he'll fight to avenge that—everything that had been taken from them. "T-Then I'm going to make them pay." Jazz said darkly and tried to get up but his pedes failed under him as acid had seeped in his joints. It was either that or the crash, it didn't matter—Jazz wasn't in the right processor to realize this. “F-for you.”

Before Prowl could respond, he heard sirens getting closer. He would never be more grateful that he'd immediately comm-ed medical when he saw Jazz hit the tree. Relief washed through him, so strong his own balance wavered and he had to catch the tree to remain upright now too.

"Jazz." He managed to force the words out even as his vision started to fade. This was overtaxing his systems in so many horrible ways and his mate had to be suffering even worse. "There's a medic on the way. Please don't argue, they just want to help. Alright?"

Jazz wanted to say something but for some reason it was hard to focus. He blinked as the illusion of Prowl before him blurred and Jazz leaned on the tree, the energon still falling heavily on them both. "It's too late." Jazz murmured. "You're already gone, they can't save you..."

"I meant for you," Prowl commented absently before he noticed Jazz was already fading out of awareness. Thankfully he could now see the medic driving towards them. Two of them in fact, and he was incredibly grateful for that. There was no way either of them could make it back to base unaided. Attempting to make their location more visible, Prowl intended to wave the medics over but that small action added expenditure of energy was too much for his frame and he slipped into unconsciousness and onto the ground beside Jazz.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the first cliffhanger XD


	9. Hope dies last

“ Prowl?” 

The designation was whispered in the medbay as a visor slowly flickered back to life, the soft glow casting heavy shadows in the darkness of the night. Jazz couldn’t recall what exactly woke him up, considering it was quiet. Too quiet. He blinked as his visor tried to focus at the ceiling and moments later hissed as suddenly his entire frame assaulted him with raw sensor data. 

In a very short time Jazz realized a lot of things. For starters, he was hooked to  P rimus knows how many cables, covered in static-bandages almost everywhere on his frame  and making it hard to move. There was extensive covering his sensor horns. No wonder he couldn’t hear a thing — they were blocked with gauze from what Jazz could feel. So he was deaf. Jazz did not like this. 

Slowly looking around, the little bits and pieces of his memory loaded back – the agony from the realization that Prowl was gone slowly started to tare at his spark again. It had been so good, these past two clicks when he didn’t remember that his lover was gone. Jazz wanted to keen, but even that movement caused him pain. For a short while he just stood there, staring that ceiling as he tried to fight off the need to cry again.

::Finally awake I see.:: The new voice startled Jazz, but luckily before he could shift the frame came into few.

::…Ratchet?:: Jazz found his voice, sounding unfamiliar to himself as well.

::You did quite the number on yourself:: the medic responded. His words were angry but there was no heat behind them. ::Your accident would have been bad enough but you just had to go out when it was raining, didn't you? Your little stunt nearly cost two sparks, though you would be gone if he hadn't taken the risk.::

Jazz blinked as he looked at the medic confused. ::...two sparks?::

::Your roommate decided it was a brilliant idea to chase you out into the storm. Of course, if he hadn't you would have offlined out there but now I have two critical patients so you are going to explain to me why you did something _so stupid_.::

Jazz felt his helm pulsing. This made no sense. ::...Room-mate? You mean Prowl? He went after me?:: But he was dead... Unless he wasn't? He had survived? Jazz really wished he could think straight, why was his mind so clouded? ::Did you drug me...?::

::How many room-mates do you have?:: the medic replied blankly, not knowing any of Jazz's concerns. In response to Jazz's question the answer came almost immediately. ::And of course I did. You wouldn't want to be online fully if I hadn't and you're not stable enough for stasis to be an option.::

::So Prowl's here?:: Jazz asked the only thing of concern for him, ::He's alive?:: This all seemed so unreal. Was it possible? He felt his spark beat faster as hope bloomed in it. Primus, if this was a lie, if Ratchet wasn't telling him the truth.... Jazz honestly didn't know what he would do.

::Barely, but yes. He's in stasis to recover from all the damage he took but he's stable.:: Ratchet ex-vented, inaudible to Jazz but otherwise impossible to miss if there had been anyone else around to hear. ::If you don't calm down I'll have to take the risk of putting you in stasis. Your frame can't handle anything right now. No stress, no moving, no talking. Nothing.::

::He's alive...:: Jazz said more to himself, rather than the medic. ::H-he's gonna stay alive? I mean, he'll live, right?:: Jazz felt like crying. Prowl was dead. But now he's not. Whatever Primus was doing to him was too cruel. Was he toying with Jazz? Either way, all Jazz felt now was dizzy with relief that the other was alive. ::Where is he? I want to see him.::

::You will do no such thing in your condition:: Ratchet threatened. ::I will not have you undoing all my hard work.::

::But I need to see him.:: Jazz argued. ::I need to see with my own optics that he's alive.::

" _Ratchet_." Jazz said out loud, static lacing voice.

Relenting, Ratchet first scolded Jazz again. ::I said don't speak!:: A crackle of static accompanied the words, suspicious because there should be no natural static along their signal. ::But fine. He's to your right, if you just turn your helm- slowly!::

Jazz blinked a couple of times as he processed that and turned his helm slowly. He wasn't able to do it fast even if he wanted. There on the berth laid a frame, face first. The door-wings on his back were entirely covered with static bandages and there were more littered over the unmoving frame.

' _Prowl....'_ Jazz thought desperately as he watched the other. They were wrong, Prowl was alive. Prowl was alive and Jazz wasn't alone. ::When will he wake up?:: Jazz managed to ask, not taring his optics from the Praxian. If he could, he would've reached over with a hand, but even the slightest movements, such as moving his helm caused him pain. Jazz didn't remember ever being this bad off. And Prowl... ::His door-wings...:: Jazz murmured.

::Took the brunt of damage between either of you:: Ratchet replied. ::He certainly was determined to protect you. The damage is extensive, and honestly outside my skill range, so he'll be in stasis until his self-repair can manage the delicate repairs.::

::I see....:: Jazz murmured as his vision started to blur. ::Don't take him away...:: He said, visor starting to flicker again.

* * *

The next time Jazz came back to consciousness he felt much better. For one, he could move his arms and hands…sorta. But the most important thing was that his helm felt much clearer than the last time. He focused more easily and this time was even able to look around the room with minimal pain accompanying his movement.

But the thing he was searching wasn’t there.

Where was the berth Prowl was on? Did Jazz imagine all of that? He was on drugs… could it all have been just apart of his imagination? Was Prowl still dead? _Terror_ gripped Jazz’s spark as he refused to believe that. No, not again. “…Prowl?” Jazz said again, his voice deaf to his own audios. But there was no one in the room. Jazz felt the panic slowly creep into his systems.

Prowl… where was he? Why wasn’t he here in the room with him? But this time the visored mech managed to process his thoughts before doing sudden, irrational things. The pain he felt morphed into anger and determination as Jazz concentrated and easily hacked the medical monitors, a little feat that his bosses in Ops didn’t know he was capable of yet.

So when Jazz disconnected all the tubes and wires and Primus knows what from his frame, the monitors didn’t make a sound, not that he could hear it. But they weren’t a blaring red – everything was in the green. This was the easy part. The hard part was actually moving. Jazz gritted his denta as he forced himself to get into a sitting position, swaying.

His torso protested. Actually, his _entire_ body protested, especially the parts covered with static bandages…which were a lot. He had to stop moving to allow the wave of vertigo to pass through him. Swinging his legs at the side of the berth, Jazz took a deep breath preparing himself for this next step.

The breath didn’t help. The moment his feet touched the ground agonizing pain blasted through him and Jazz tumbled to the ground like a sack of rusted bolts. He cursed a couple of times, again not hearing them as his optics had shut tightly from pain. Jazz gritted his denta, clenching his bandage-covered fists as he tried to regain his composure.

Prowl. He had to find Prowl and once and for all figure out if the other was dead or not. Jazz couldn’t handle this anymore. When he finally was able to refocus his optics and turn on his visor Jazz saw a pair or rushing feet towards him.

"Whoa, hold on there," The words fell on literally deaf audios, but the couldn't know such and kept talking anyway as he carefully lifted Jazz and repositioned him on the medberth. "I don't know how you got outta all these cables without setting anything off… Darned thing must be glitchy. I wonder if Ratch'll let me take a look to try and fix it."

The entire time he spoke, Wheeljack's audio fins lit up with the words, changing colors as his tone and mood shifted.

Moving hurt. Jazz shuddered under the mech’s hold as he was helped back onto that dreaded berth and eased down to lay on it. Wheeljack was blabbering about something, or at least Jazz thought he was. His audio fins kept lighting up but he couldn’t see his mouth to be sure. But right now Jazz didn’t care about that. All he cared about was: “ S-stop ‘Jack. Prowl.” Jazz said as he forced his hand to move and capture the mech’s servo in his own, stopping him from re-attaching the cables. “W-where’s Prowl?” He hoped his voice sounded somewhat right.

Whatever he heard, Wheeljack stopped and gave a curious look before calling up the medical files he probably shouldn't have access to but as an acting medic he was thereby allowed to see. "Temporarily deaf, huh?" he commented before realizing that he was still speaking out loud. A quick scan of the data got him Jazz's frequency and he sent a communication request. He started speaking when it was accepted.

::Jazz, you shouldn’t move:: The engineer said. ::You know I'm not a medic but you gotta trust me and _stop_ trying to get us both in trouble. Ratchet's already gonna weld me to the wall for letting you get outta that berth at all, although I'm still trying to figure out just how you managed to hack the monitors in the first place.::

Every movement hurt and soon Jazz was forces to let go of the hand he had captured. ::Prowl.:: Jazz managed. Was one of those i.v's a pain relief? Everything hurt like the put. ::Where is he? I need to see him.:: Jazz then forced out the words he had been saying a lot for these last couple of orns, ::...Is he alive?::

::Prowl?:: the engineer repeated absently as he accessed the medical network again. ::Looks like they moved him once he was offline. His condition's not gonna change so even if you could move I doubt you'd be allowed to see him like that.::

Offline...? Prowl's offline...? Jazz's fist hit the berth as he shuttered his optics and pain assaulted him. Dammit. _Dammit!_ What the frag was going on? ::I don't care! I need to see him.:: His voice broke no argument, spark ripping in his chest. This was just too much.

::What you need to do is rest:: Wheeljack replied. ::Even if you are allowed to see him, you need someone to escort you. All the medics are busy and I can't leave here in case any of these monitors go off.:: His tone turned pleading the longer he spoke. ::C’mon, Jazz. Let me just attach the pain meds and then I'll ask for you. Ok?::

Jazz nodded, shuttering his optics as the pain got too much. ::I _need_ to see him.:: He desperately.

::Just lay back and vent deep while I get this fixed for you.:: Wheeljack wisely didn't make any promises as he dug out a container with pain medication that would also send Jazz into recharge. Quickly, he replaced the empty container with this one before he carefully set about reinserting the line. That was one of the few things he could do well in a Medbay at least. He didn't speak again until he was done.

::Right. Now give that a couple of kliks to work and your pain'll be gone.::

Jazz nodded as he felt his body slowly start to relax as the pain meds entered his systems. ::Need to see him...:: Jazz muttered one last time as the fight to keep his visor online was lost.

* * *

The first thing he remembered as he woke was that he didn't remember going into recharge. Then he noticed the haziness in his processor and made the eventual jump to the fact he was being medicated and therefor in the Medbay. The only logical reason that made both situations make sense was something had happened to him, but what?

Even as he wondered, bits and pieces of memory began to appear in his mind. Something about an accident… out in the rain. And a crash into a tree... Well, at least that explained the need to be medicated. But why had he gone out in the first place?

As he considered it, Prowl began to notice the world outside himself slowly. First it was the fact he was face down on a berth. Not the most comfortable arrangement, but logical enough if he'd injured his doorwings and given he'd been hurt out in an acid storm it was a given they would be damaged.

Next came the realization that he couldn't sense anything through them. At all. A momentary panic filled him and he struggled to pull up an internal status report. Reading through the pre-collapse error log only served to increase his panic but he forced it down as much as he could. By the time he reached the end of the report he was wondering both how he'd gotten off so lucky and how he'd managed to make it back.

At least the end result was a bleak comfort. Much of his frame was damaged and his wings especially so, but not to the point they would need to be replaced. Should that happen he wasn't sure what he would do because it was unlikely there were even any wing surgeons left, and certainly not on the planet anymore.

Belatedly, he realized there was another field nearby and he carefully shifted his helm in that direction. Only then did he online his optics, pleasantly surprised to find the lighting had been cut to about half the Medbay's usual harsh glare.

"Ratchet?" he asked slowly, unsure of what to say and so all the unspoken questions ended up in the single word.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Ratchet said, but most of his attention was focused on the monitors as he observed how the systems in Prowl's frame booted after the long stay in stasis. "Had a nice nap?" He asked, tone slightly biting but there was no mistaking to concern there.

When everything checked out Ratchet focused his full attention on his patient. "When that processor of your finishes booting, you could explain to me why you and your room-mate thought it a wise idea to go outside an acid storm. And please make it good or I will give Jazz company for his psyche eval."

"I…"

Prowl paused mid word, realizing that he had no answer. Running through what Ratchet said again did get him thinking though. Jazz had been in the rain too? He couldn't have brought him back alone though. Did Jazz call for a medic? But why had he gone out in the storm to begin with?

Memory hit with almost physical force.

Jazz suffering, the need to crash him, his panic after the crash, chasing him when he ran away, the crash-it had been Jazz who crashed, not himself!- and the conversation in the rain. Jazz thought he was offline? But why? It didn't make any sense, and he couldn't exactly ask Ratchet though so he shoved that aside to figure out how to explain the situation.

But Prowl had nothing. Nothing that wouldn't run the risk of getting them caught and potentially separated. Even just being romantically interested could get bots shipped to different bases. That couldn't happen to them. He was so close to a break through on his project and his tests ran best with Jazz there. Their relationship might suffer too but at least that was already firmly real. His project however, that wouldn't be real until he completed it.

He cut that line of thought when he realized he still hadn't come up with an answer for Ratchet. A slow exvent was the first sound he made in kliks and Prowl decided to stick as close as he could to the truth.

"He had been recharging poorly, some sort of nightmare probably, while I was reading but he suddenly jumped up and after a few moments of odd behavior he left our room. His visor was on but it was strange even for him so I decided to follow to make sure he was alright or if someone needed to be alerted. I realized fairly quickly that he needed help when he transformed inside the base but I guess I was preoccupied with keeping up with him and might not have comm-ed anyone at the time." Most of that information was verifiable and so he wasn't worried about that part of the tale, just the rest. "I did comm for a medic when I witnessed his crash. It seemed like he slid off the road, not something he did intentionally. He'd transformed by the time I reached him and I could see he was injured so I did what I could to help until someone could arrive."

Ratchet nodded at that. "At least this sheds some light into the entire situation. I knew Ops was straining on its mechs, just not to this extent." So any reservations he had about sending jazz for a psyche evaluation were gone. "I see. Well this explains why he refuses to explain what in the world happened. He's been asking about you since before he even onlined. You saved his life." Ratchet said.

"How do you feel? I have stopped all sensor flow and data from your door wings—trust me, you don’t want them on. I know you feel blind and your balance will be off. But your sensors are quite literally out in the open. Even the pumping of your own spark could drive you insane." He explained as he took a chair and sat next to Prowl so he could be optic level with him. "That’s basically your worst damage. You are extremely lucky you didn't lose either of them. I am not an expert with door-wings. So that’s why if you check your log you’ll see that you were in stasis for little over two meta-cycles. I'm not going to even go over the rest of the damage—burs from the acid. But luckily not as worse off as Jazz thanks to his spectacular crash." He muttered the last part more to himself rather than the patient.

"I'm glad he survived," Prowl commented and couldn't help the faint smile that graced his lips. He didn't even want to think about his life without the other. "It seems like you know my condition better than I do," he offered slowly. The medic might take it as snark but he was simply making an observation this time. With his sensors off there was nothing he could tell that Ratchet couldn't, and he honestly knew less right now. "How much longer will I need to remain here?"

"When you can walk five steps without falling." Came the simple reply. "Your room mate on the other—I'm not so sure."

Prowl almost tried to push himself up but thought better of it even as he started to move his arms. The command was extremely sluggish and he was probably lucky it even worked at all. Cutting the motion off was a bit quicker but still slow and thus he finally responded almost a klik. "Why? I thought you said he was going to recover too?"

"And he will. But unlike you the acid sipped through the cracks in his armor, causing internal damage. There is no threat to his life anymore. But we'll see how he fares when it's time to discharge you. I'll be more willing to discharge him if I know there will be someone serious recovering with him. But for now, all I want you is to rest up. You need it."

Hearing Jazz's condition caused his spark to pulse faster while it seemed to him like it shrank in on itself. He did what he could to keep calm outwardly though, trying to forget all the equipment that was monitoring him presently. Jazz was _that_ bad off?! He couldn't stand the thought that he probably wouldn't get to see his mate until they'd each recovered more, but he also knew there was nothing to be done about it.

"Are you going to put me in stasis again? If not, how long until I'll be allowed to move? This isn't the most comfortable position to rest in." Of course the most comfortable would be with his mate, but that was not a conversation to be had.

"I don't think you've had a good look of your back." Ratchet said rather drily. Mechs like Prowl needed to be show facts in order to reason with them. So Ratchet pulled up a couple of image captures he had made for his own logs of Prowl's door-wings right after the storm, after he repaired them and an image capture of now, showing them bandaged.

"It's really up to you." Ratchet explained as he waited for Prowl to look over the pictures. "If you can sit properly, be my guest. But for the time being—try to keep them from touching anything. I'll remove the gauze and padding when your sensors are no longer exposed. But you'll stay with static bandages for a while after that."

Had Prowl the capacity, his wings would have twitched at the images. As it were, Prowl gave no sign he even saw them before speaking. "Understood. Do you have an estimate on how long it will be until then?" he asked carefully. "And how long I will be off duty?"

"So eager to return to work?" Ratchet asked with a raised optic ridge. "I am optimistic that if all goes well today and tomorrow we can start helping you move... I'd say I'll be able to discharge you in three orns. As for work—you'll be at least a week off the active duty roster and then light duty until all the bandages come off."

"More curious than anything," Prowl answered. "I prefer not having nothing to do and most of my current work is involved in battle plans and strategies. Is even my work in Tactical off limits?"

"I just want you one week doing _nothing_. I don't think I'm asking too much?" Ratchet asked before he sighed. "Jazz has been insisting on seeing you. If you want to, I can place you two in the same room with each other here? That'll get him off my back and calm down." He muttered the last part.

"I have no issue with that," Prowl accepted carefully. He had to force himself to wait and not answer immediately but to be able to see Jazz and verify that he was functional with his own optics! He could only hope Ratchet didn't notice the flutter of his spark that was surely visible on one of the monitors around him. "I've gotten quite accustomed to the company of another in the room while I recharge anyway."

"I know. But medbay is a place for resting. And that’s what I want you two to do. So if I see the opposite of that I'll separate you two." Ratchet said, resembling more a teacher at a school rather than a medic. "He's currently recharging now. I'll get someone to cart him in the room. You should follow his example and do that as well."

"What else do you expect we'd do?" Prowl couldn't help asking in a dry tone. "Hop into a berth together and instantly frag?" Not that they hadn't in the past before but those circumstances had been vastly different. "He only likes me for my wings anyway."

Ratchet blinked at the crude words. "Now I know why my medics don't like being around you. They are not used to your snark. And those wings of yours will recover, luckily."

Prowl really had nothing's for to say and so didn't respond. Instead he slowly started to cycle what few systems were running into lower power states. Let Ratchet think he was heading into recharge, so long as he brought Jazz in soon. He had to see his mate before he could let himself rest.

It was only a few kliks before the door opened and another berth was rolled in. The angle was all wrong for Prowl to see but he heard the unmistakable sounds. Even without his full sensory system he could still tell a few things.

Annoyingly, the medic, someone who wasn't Ratchet he noted absently, decided to stand between the two mediberths as he positioned the second, continuing to block the Praxian's view. It seemed like an eternity before the mech finally decided to leave and Prowl onlined his optics again. He'd only turned them off because they had been an unnecessary drain when he couldn't even see what he was looking for. Now he could though, and even though he thought he was prepared, he certainly wasn't.

His mate, his beautiful Jazz, was barely recognizable under all the bandages. There was barely a visible patch of his frame at all and his helm was almost entirely encased in the stuff! If not for the visor he may not have recognized the mech, and even that was dark as the other recharged. His processor so very unhelpfully decided to try and match the injuries to what he vaguely remembered after the crash but he forcibly ended that thread. Now was not the time for that. There would never be a proper time for such thoughts, but most especially not here and now.

Not when he could see but couldn't touch. Couldn't pull his mate close and hold him until they were both better. A few tears crept out but he didn't care. His beautiful, perfect mate was right there and still online and all his own worst worries were suddenly gone. He longed to reach out and touch but even if his frame had been functional enough he still couldn't reach. They had been set just far enough apart they both had to make the effort, and that was not happening right now.

Still, he longed to do _something_. Casting his thoughts around brought a small smile to his face again. There was one way he could reach his mate, even if Jazz wouldn't receive it until he onlined. And so he activated his comm system and created a text message to send. There was so much he could say, so much he wanted to say, but in the end it was a simple message he sent.

_/I love you more than anything, my Jazz./_

 

 


End file.
